Shifting, Lincoln grasped her hand dragging her forward as he slashed out with his other hand. Seconds later, the two hunters he’d been watching earlier joined in.
“Let her through,” the male called. “She’s with Lexia.”
With Alice safe, Lincoln turned back as the final door was shut.
“No,” he growled running forward. “She’s still in there.”
Lincoln flung those out of his way. Grasping the door, he swung it open. The mindless hunters collided into him, knocking him to the ground. Righting himself, Lincoln jumped for the door when someone called, “Detonators set. Move back.”
Eyes locking with the man who held the small device, Lincoln ran at him growling. He was joined by others. The male hunter and Grey both fought to get the detonator from the man’s hand.
“We’ve still people inside,” Grey yelled.
“Too late,” he answered, finger pressing down.
The crack of their impact was covered by the sound of the final exit being destroyed. Lincoln out of control from bloodlust, sliced his claws into the man who’d set off the final blast.
Seeing nothing but red, he sliced and sliced, hot, red blood coating his hands, splashing up his body.
“Enough, enough, he’s dead,” Grey yelled, pulling Lincoln off. Holding his hands up as Lincoln turned his anger on him, Grey continued, “Hey, I tried to stop him. I wanted Lex to live, too.”
Breaths ragged, chest heaving with the effort to breathe, rage pulsed like a potent drug through his blood. “There has to be another way out,” he growled, trying to think through the storm in his mind.
Grey shook his head sadly as the male hunter stepped forward. “The patrol hatch,” he said. “We’d get out on top for patrols. There’s a hatch in the center of the hill.”
Already running before the words had left his mouth, Lincoln shifted, needing the speed of his cat.
“Lincoln, wait, the explosives are set on timers. There’s no time.”
He didn’t stop. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t just stand by and watch the ground collapse, burying his mate alive. He saw the hatch and felt a flicker of hope, just as his body was thrown back. Heat and debris damaged his skin, pulverizing his insides. His last glimpse of the world was one of fire. Smoke, black and thick, billowed up into the air and the mound of earth hiding the compound nothing but rubble and turned-over soil.
Chapter 35
Lexia’s intentions were always to end the game. She turned, determined to put a bullet in Lucy’s head and finally stripping her mother from her life.
However, Lucy had other intentions. She knew exactly which card to deal and exactly the right time. It was her gift and one she used to her advantage.
“Your brothers and sisters, do you not want to know about them?” When Lexia didn’t answer, Lucy continued, “Three were to grow up in normal situations. Though not like you were to have. Emma was terminated. After killing the people charged as her foster parents — it was a brutal kill and with such strength at such a young age – it was determined best to end her before she became uncontrollable. Daniel was the last to die. He lived in the sister compound you had the wolves destroy.” Lucy’s smile turned cruel. “How does it feel to know you killed your brother? His parents died too in that explosion. They were good friends of mine in fact.”
“I was putting an end to the monsters you were creating,” Lexia said in defense. She knew she needed to end her, yet still, she listened to Lucy speak on.
Lucy laughed. “Slowed down, not ended.”
“Lexia, enough. Don’t listen to her lies anymore,” Derrick interrupted as he stepped to face her, his expression pleading.
“Oh, but there is so much more.” Lucy laughed, not ruffled in the slightest.
“How about the juicy tale of how your animal’s parents killed three of your brothers and sisters?”
“They were nothing like me,” Lexia said, slowly breaking. Her mother’s words were worming their way inside of her, distorting her views.
“They were just like you, Maura,” Lucy said softly, reaching out for her.
Lies. It’s all lies. Lexia held her gun up. “My name is Lexia,” she screamed.
Lucy smiled, seeing the first crack in Lexia’s mask. “I find it so interesting that you cling to the name given to you by a man who wasn’t even your father.”
“He was my father in every way that counted,” Lexia countered, playing right into her game.
“But what about your real father? I always did find the way you two connected interesting. Tell me do you know, or is it just a gut feeling?”
“Know what?” Derrick snapped, pushing Lucy back roughly as she closed the distance between them.
“That she’s your daughter,” Lucy goaded.
“What?” Derrick gasped, turning to stare at Lexia.
Laughing musically, Lucy clapped her hands, the sound echoing around the room. “There was just something about you, Derrick. I longed to have you, to play with you and I have for so many years. I took pieces of you and cut and spliced and look what I made.” She smiled, sweeping her arm toward Lexia lovingly.
“You’re a monster,” Lexia breathed out, holding her gun steady. “But now it’s time to put an end to this.” She forced her words to be calm, controlled. “Every plan you made, I destroyed. I played you until they crumbled and now you are going to die.”
Her finger twitched on the trigger. Heart beat pulsing through her head, like a timer to the end. Lexia took a final breath and prepared to shoot.
“Killing me will not change who you are, Maura. I made you, remember? And like me, you destroy everything you love.”
She hesitated. Hesitated when she’d told herself once she’d never hesitate again. Hesitations led to death. A hesitation was all the time Lucy needed to pull her concealed weapon free and fire.
The sound of the gun reverberated through Lexia’s bones, yet instead of fear, she felt relief. She’d failed but at last the battle was over. Lucy’s gun would put an end to the turmoil inside of her and Lexia might finally find some semblance of peace.
Though things rarely worked in Lexia’s favor. Derrick moved in front of her at the last second, taking the bullet intent on taking her life.
“No!” Lexia screamed as Lucy’s cackle filled her head. She was like poison, every word, every touch killed and destroyed. Lexia had let Lucy poison her. She’d let her win.
Anger, a wild beast, controlled Lexia. The trigger pulled, repeating its destruction until it did nothing but click. Lexia didn’t even notice Lucy dead, mangled with bullets. There was only Derrick.
“No, no, no,” she sobbed, dropping to her knees, the gun in her hand falling with a clatter. “Please, no.”
With a blood-covered hand, Derrick touched Lexia’s cheek, wiping the tears tumbling down her face. “It’s time to go, Lex.”
“No, I’m not leaving without you,” she sobbed, trying to pull him up.
Derrick rasped out in pain, “Lex.”
“Please, please, you can’t die too. I can’t lose you, too.”
“You will never lose me. I’m a part of you.”
Lexia smiled at him through her sobs, seeing his kind face through pools of tears. Everything made sense now. Of all the lies Lucy told, she knew this was the truth. “I need you.”
“No, you don’t,” he said through a pained cough. With a labored breath, he held her gaze. “You are so strong, Lex. Go live. Promise me you’ll live. Live for the moments so bright, so pure, everything else just fades away. Live for those moments, Lex. Grasp them and never let go.”
She was out of time. She knew that. Any longer and she’d never make it out alive, but then that had always been her intention. She’d always planned on destroying everything of her mother’s.
“You don’t see it, but I do. You are not your mother’s creation, Lexia. Nothing as strong and pure could come from her.”
“You were supposed to meet your daughter,” she choked, pr
essing a hand to his cheek.
Smiling through the pain, Derrick placed his hand over hers. “I did.”
His hand went limp, falling away as he took his final breath.
Promise me you’ll live…
Pressing a tear-soaked kiss to his forehead, Lexia ran her fingers gently over his face, closing his eyes for the final time. “I love you,” she whispered as she stood.
Without looking back, Lexia raced from the room. If she ran quick enough, she’d make it. She’d live like Derrick wanted.
Breathing became difficult as she went, the heartache inside of her debilitating. It was as if the walls were closing in. The corridors turned into mindless identical tunnels. Losing her way, she stumbled to a stop, clutching the wall for support as she heaved in a breath, trying desperately to contain the pieces of her crumbling apart.
The easy option would have been for Lexia to succumb to her grief, the weight of it suffocating. So much so that when the compound finally met its fiery end, she would have never felt the pain of death. Death would have been a relief. Death would have given her an escape from the agony she lived with every day. The easy option wasn’t an option though. Too many people had sacrificed themselves for her. With so much blood on her hands, she had to try at least to live, to deal with the terrible things she felt.
Steeling herself against the storm inside, Lexia straightened, focusing on her surroundings. The compound was deathly quiet. Too quiet. Now that her mind had some semblance of focus, Lexia took the time she needed. Conscious she had already used the ten-minute warning Grey had given her, Lexia pushed her body to the brink of its limit, her feet pounding, the slap of her boots vibrating through her bones.
Yet as she turned the last corner, she faltered. A soft noise infiltrated her ears. Stopping abruptly, Lexia listened.
Can’t be…
Her feet moved on their own accord. No urgency of the final blast soon to seal her in. Pulled by a force she didn’t understand, to a noise that was wrong. Shouldn’t – couldn’t be in a place like this. The door swung open with an eerie whoosh the instant she entered the cold and sterile room. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, goose bumps breaking out over her skin.
Lexia couldn’t comprehend what she saw. Her heart slowly increased in speed, the boom of it deafening as she peered into the first plastic cot she’d reached. Inside, deathly still, lay a baby. Yet this wasn’t a baby. Babies moved, made noise. The little pale face turned toward her, its eyes opening. “Oh, God,” Lexia gasped, her hand reaching out as she fell back.
We must start again.
With eyes of black and a look of emptiness, these weren’t babies; they were monsters. Scrambling back away from the six plastic cots in the center of the room, she didn’t stop, or breathe until her back hit the wall.
Breathing in horrified pants, Lexia climbed to her feet, her hands walking up the wall as she went, still her eyes couldn’t look away. Couldn’t believe this was real.
A mewling cry broke the silence. Lexia stood a little taller, not sure the…things…had made the noise. High pitched this time, the cry pulled at her heart, touching her in a way she’d never experienced. Turning slowly, Lexia looked at the wall. Her hands tracing the door which was flush to the wall, it had no handle or hinge. With a cabinet sat in front, she would not have known it was there. Yet it had to be because behind the wall came a cry. The cry of a baby that instantly pulled her in. Called to her. Moving the cabinet out of the way, Lexia pushed the door with a firm hand. It popped back releasing a second later. Her steps quickened as the cry became more intense, gargled rasps mixed into the high wail.
Scooping the little girl into her hands, she fit perfectly into the crook of her elbow. “Shshsh,” Lexia murmured, her hips bouncing slightly on instinct. Making one last mewling protest, the baby opened her eyes, and in the instant Lexia locked with hers, she knew.
Eyes of crystal blue, filled with a clarity of knowledge. The connection was instant and all-consuming; a love she’d never experienced and never thought she would.
“How is this possible?” Lexia whispered to the girl who she cradled against her chest. “How are you mine? I’ve not even been here long enough.”
Laughing as she paused for the infant to answer, Lexia was about to tell the baby she’d gone mad, when the walls started to shake. The blast shook through the room, lifting her hair and forcing her to brace against pressure. Shielding the baby, she curled her body around her. The compound rumbled, the sound terrifying and mixed with the babies cry, a cry which physically hurt; Lexia was instantly doused in fear.
Lifting her head when the rumbling finally subsided, the room was now filled with clouds of dust.
I’m too late. “I’m too late,” she repeated aloud, her tone holding an edge of hysteria. Settling the baby as best she could, Lexia stared at her, trying to see a way out. Trying to find a way to save the baby she’d only just met and already failed.
The patrol hatch!
Running at a blinding speed, her arms crossed tightly, holding the tiny bundle as still as she could. Lexia took turns at an impossible pace, tapped into the furthest depths of her power, depths she’d been too afraid to go before for fear the darkness would never let her back. Now though, she didn’t fear her power. She needed every last drop. Lexia hadn’t carried or delivered this baby. She’d not known of her existence, but it’d only took one look to fall so deeply and unconditionally in love. Nothing mattered now but her survival, her health, her happiness. She’d wanted to die, but how could she now, when there was a life, so innocent, so frail. A life born into the cruelest of worlds and of that Lexia had firsthand experience.
You will have a better life than me, she vowed as she ran. You will know a mother’s love.
“Nearly there,” she whispered as she pushed her legs past the burn of acid coursing through her muscles. Turning the last bend, she caught a glimpse of the hatch up ahead before she was blown off her feet. Back slamming into the wall with such force the air left her in a violent rush, Lexia blacked out for a second.
Struggling to sit, Lexia cried out as she tried to stand, realizing her leg was broken. Plunged into darkness a second later, she could do nothing but cradle the screaming baby in her arms and rock gently as blast after blast, ricochet through the compound. The sound of falling rubble and groaning metal ricocheted round her.
Gritting through the pain, Lexia scrambled back as the walls around her started to fall, the noise so loud it was impossible to think, to feel. Lexia cried silently, her body trembling in a fear she’d never before felt. Never once had she feared death, but now it crawled through her with its icy nails, gouging its way into every cell of her body.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Lexia sobbed.
There was a moment of peace in the second before the final explosion. A moment when the dust seemed to settle and a light flicked dimly for just a few seconds. Lexia looked down at her daughter who gazed right back. It was a moment of wonder and happiness in a sea of only black.
“Your name is Lola,” she told the beautiful girl in her arms. It was all Lexia could give her. A name after a woman who’d had strength and kindness, a woman who’d fought until her last breath for the children she loved. “My sweet, beautiful Lola,” she whispered, running a finger down her face. She felt no fear, no pain, just the bone-deep love a mother felt for their child.
The final detonator went off, ending the hell, the torture inflicted within the compound walls. Lexia was buried in concrete, fire and ash filling her lungs, peeling her skin, until she felt nothing at all.
Chapter 36
Sound came back to him first. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard an engine rumble becoming louder, a rhythmic wop-wop of what must have been helicopter blades. Eyes opening, Lincoln blinked rapidly in an effort to see clearly. Rolling onto his side took great effort and the groan that escaped him sounded pained and breathless.
Head spinning, he blinked his eyes wider, fighting the urge to t
hrow up. Smoke clouded the air, thick and choking; Lincoln attempted to move only managing to drag his body a short distance across the broken earth beneath him. Looking up he shielded his eyes as the helicopter hovered above, the air from the blades clearing the smoke enough for Lincoln to see across the mound of rumble that had once been the hunter compound. Two people descended from the helicopter. One was a woman, who scanned the still corralled hunters franticly, eyes widened as she spotted whom she’d been looking for. Lincoln watched through blurry eyes as she ran, weaving her way through the dead, only to be stopped by who appeared to be the hunter male who’d helped Alice.
Mind too foggy to watch them argue, Lincoln dropped his head back to the ground and contemplated why he was still alive. Pain, heartache, it had been a constant in his life. From the loss of his parents and now Lexia, this pain had no comparison, even though his body was injured, skin burned, cut, and his head rattled enough to make coherent thoughts difficult. It was the pain inside him that was the worst. No amount of physical pain could ever match the grief and heartache he felt. His rage was utterly potent. Its fiery depths had no outlet, and now Lexia was lost, there was no hope of dousing the fire inside of Lincoln.
He wished for death to take him, but knew it wouldn’t. Knew his body even now healed at a rapid rate. The emotional damage left him unable to move, unable to drag enough oxygen into his lungs. He didn’t want to live anymore. The hunters were dead. The man who’d set off the final explosion was dead. There was no one left to kill, no revenge to hold onto, no hope. All Lincoln wanted now was to join his mate in the afterlife.
“Linc, Linc, talk to me. Where are you hurt.”?”
Swiping Caden away with his hand as he knelt down, touching wounds, assessing damage.
“Where are you hurt?” Caden repeated.
Lincoln sucked in a breath, unable to speak as a sudden burst of pain erupted from his heart. Clutching at his chest, he rolled onto his side. Unable to get the much-needed air inside of him, his head began to swim.
Holocaust (The Deadwood Hunter Series Book 3) Page 22
