Chapter Twenty-five
Gunfire erupts immediately as little explosions go off seemingly everywhere.
Also around me is a wavering, crackling shell of pure energy. Next to me, Allison is holding up both her hands, seemingly keeping the energy field in place through sheer force of will—or witchcraft.
Kind of one and the same.
A body slams into the shield as the werewolves and vamps kick into action. There’s a lot going on, but luckily, I can compartmentalize with the best of them. The gunshots and the hurling bodies go in one compartment. My friend keeping us safe with her magic goes in another box. That frees me up to focus on the job at hand—and that’s the wires running from Norm’s head to this computer directly in front of me. Norm and the doctor are just outside the protective dome of power—or whatever Allie might call it. Only the wire is inside it. There’s no monitor, so I haven’t a clue how far along the download has progressed—if that is, in fact, what’s going on here. I highly doubt they’re transferring Norm’s Spotify playlist.
So, I act quickly, doing the only thing I can think of doing—and start pulling the wires out of the computer. They unplug easily enough, and as they pop out, one by one, a shrill cry comes from outside the shimmering dome. That’s Norm, if I’m correct. Yeah, he’s not liking what I’m doing.
Or what I’m about to do next...
I raise my foot, presently sporting my sweet New Balance sneakers, and slam my foot down onto the computer equipment. The shell implodes as I proceed to stomp the living hell out of the computer. Anything stored on the computer is gone, unless the bastard stored itself on the cloud or something.
Like I know what that even means.
Mostly, let’s hope that Norm didn’t get out.
Meanwhile, the cyborg is kicking and screaming on the other side of the shell, a helluva good tantrum, if you ask me.
I’ve released the wires, that I presume are still attached to his head. Allie is right. I have to be careful. I don’t want to hurt Norman the man. From inside the shell, I command the doctor outside to carefully disengage the wires from Norman.
“Okay, Allie. All done.”
But she doesn’t hear me; after all, it takes a lot of concentration to stop bullets and keep other immortals at bay; instead, I place my hand on her quivering shoulder, summon the single flame, and head back to her place, this time in her living room, on the couch, which is where we appear, shield and all. Once she sees where we are, she lowers her hand and the force field disappears.
“That was terrifying, Sam.” She slumps against me.
“You did good. Mission complete.”
We sit like that for a few minutes until she stops shaking.