Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
Feet pounding.
Hearts beating.
The tunnel seemed to go on forever, terror strung like cobwebs as we rushed forward, guards screaming and shooting at us from far behind.
The locked gate had only held them for a minute or two before they broke through, coming after us. There was no way they didn’t already have soldiers heading to head us off down the path. Our escape or capture could be down to seconds.
The route under our feet inclined, bringing us up to the surface.
A breeze brushed against my face, and I could smell a hint of diesel fuel and coal, the odor I connected to trains.
While Unified Nations went solar, electrical, and eco-friendly, the East went backward, losing the power lines they used to run on and falling back on fossil fuels.
My ears filled with the resonance of tracks clinking, the hum of engines, the echo of a whistle, and steam releasing. Hope beat inside my chest, like light really beckoned at the end of the tunnel.
The Ferencvárosi train station. If we got there, we had a chance of escaping.
“Hurry!” I croaked. Blood trailed down my arm, pain throbbing through my shoulder, dizziness spinning my vision. Adrenaline was the only thing pushing me forward.
The kids with thin, boney legs sprinted faster, helping those who couldn’t run as quickly, understanding freedom was not too far away.
Dread soaked into my legs when I spotted another large gate at the end of the passage. Guards shouted from the other side as well as behind us. The silhouettes of figures rushing for the gate in front of us, weapons in their hands.
Fuck. I knew it wouldn’t be so easy, but it felt wrong to get this close and fail now.
“Do or die,” I muttered to Warwick.
“Seems to be our motto.”
Warwick and I barreled forward, lining up with the gate, our arms through the bars, firing at the oncoming guards, while the little blonde girl tried the dozen keys in her hand on the lock.
Bullets pinged off the metal, volleying for us, the older kids next to us returning fire.
A shell knocked Warwick backward, pain growling from him, but he didn’t stop firing. I knew he was hit, but neither of us could stop or help each other now.
We just had to survive.
A cry came from the other side of Warwick; a little boy hit the ground.
Another scream.
The little blonde girl dropped the keyring to the floor, her butt hitting the ground as blood spilled out of her hand where she’d been shot.
“No!” I shrilled, anger and terror driving a wail through me. I no longer felt pain. I pulled the triggers on both guns I held, belting out a cry of death, slaughtering anything in my range.
My magic was gone, but fury can be a powerful force.
Another girl snatched up the keys, picking up where the first girl left off, understanding survival was the only priority . . . everything else came later.
Compartmentalizing was the only way to live in this world, endure and continue on.
Gunshots discharged from behind us, the other group of soldiers catching up with us.
Time was running out. I could feel the tick of the clock. The anticipation of a bullet hitting my spine.
Clank.
The last gate released. The clatter was a freedom song, squealing with glee as it opened.
“Go!” Warwick belted at the kids, jumping in front of them, getting behind a small barrier, covering them so they could slip out either side. “Run and don’t look back!”
The kids did as he said, scrambling out of the tunnel and heading for the tracks in various directions. Shadows and fog crept in around the trains, gobbling them up in darkness and allowing them to slip away into the freedom of the night.
“Go! Go!” I waved the rest to retreat.
The older girl picked up the little blonde who had been shot in the hand, and without a second glance, sprinted away, the last two kids alive slipping out of HDF’s reach.
I didn’t even let out a sigh of relief when I heard the squeal of car tires in the distance.
My instinct knew who it was. I knew who was coming for me.
Istvan.
“Warwick.” I hid behind another small barrier next to him, the sentries steadily moving in.
“Yeah, we should go,” he replied dryly as his gun clicked empty.
Only a few shots left, I covered him as he leaped behind my barrier with me, emptying my gun.
We had no more weapons. No more protection.
“Remember what you said, Kovacs? Better to die free than live a life in a cage.” His aqua eyes pierced mine. “On three . . . and as I told the kids, run and don’t look back. Whatever happens.” His meaning—if I get shot, don’t stop for me. Keep running.
Panic clogged my throat, knowing this could be it.
“One . . .”
I took a deep breath.
“Two . . .”
I pushed my shoulders back, rolling on my toes.
“Three!”
Warwick and I bounded up. My arms and legs moved as fast as they could as I sprinted for the train tracks.
Shouts and bullets volleyed our way. Pain sliced into the side of my thigh, my leg stumbling at the impact.
“Kovacs!” Warwick grabbed for my hand, yanking me forward, trying to keep me going as soldiers descended on us. Weaving past the train carriages, we broke out onto the tracks.
Headlights assaulted my eyes as several armored trucks drove out onto the rails, spotlights on top of the roof shining on us like a target, guns sticking out of windows pointed at us.
“Fuck!” Warwick whirled us in a different direction as the three cars bounced over the rails, shooting at us.
My legs struggled to keep up. Locking my teeth together, I pushed myself to keep going.
“There!” I pointed, seeing a gap through a fence not far from us.
Warwick pulled me harder, jumping over tracks as volleys pinged off the ground and fence around us. One struck the spot right before we slipped through.
“Brexley!” I heard Istvan’s voice boom out. “Hear this! Every day you stay away, your friends at Věrh?za suffer for it. This is on you! If you come with me now . . .”
I paused.
“No,” Warwick growled at me, his grip on me tightening.
My gaze lifted to his in doubt.
“No.” Final. No question. “Don’t fall for it. They will not be any better off if you give yourself over to Istvan. He will kill you after he kills them in front of you.” Giving me no time to respond, Warwick threaded his hand in mine and yanked me to follow.
Covered in blood, wounded, and weak, we slipped into the night and ran straight from Istvan’s evil lab to the seedy world of the Savage Lands.
We cut through the seediest section of the Savage Lands, using the darkness as protection.
It wasn’t Istvan I feared hunting us through these parts; it was the trouble walking these streets waiting for an opportunity.
I worried Markos would have spies through here.
Webs of people working and living among the destitute, relaying any information back to him for a coin.
“This way,” Warwick said quietly, his hand still in mine, leading us down an alley past a butcher shop. One that probably stuffed the sausage with things other than animal meat.
Stopping at a back door, he peered over his shoulder, glancing around before he did a double knock and three taps on the alley door.
“A butcher shop?”
“During the day, it is,” Warwick replied, hinting at something more.
After a few moments, a slot opened up by the peephole, two eyes peering out. “Fuck.” A growly voice snarled on the other side, the view hole slamming shut as quickly as it opened.
Bolts unlocked before a massive bald man wearing a blood-stained apron opened the door.
“Get the fuck in here,” he snapped, waving us in. He peered out the door before he slammed and locked it behind us.
“Te geci.” You bastard. “What the fuck, Warwick. You just show up here?” the guy huffed out in a Polish accent.
He wasn’t as tall or as big as Warwick, but he still held his own.
His bearded face, heavy frame, and severe attitude made him quite intimidating.
By his looks, he wasn’t full fae, but something about him told me he wasn’t full human either. A half-breed like Warwick.
“Good to see you too, Gawel.”
The guy crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Warwick.
“Where the fuck have you been? I thought you were dead.” He narrowed his gaze at the blue prison uniform Warwick still wore, though it was ripped, worn, and covered in blood.
“Probably should be,” Warwick replied, nodding to me. “Need your help.”
Gawel blinked, his jaw rolling, his gaze going over both of us, taking in our injuries.
“Nothing’s changed, I see.” He huffed. “Come on.” Turning away, he lumbered down a dark hallway full of meat hooks crusted in blood and gore.
I swallowed. “What are we doing here?”
“Told you, Kovacs. I know more than one place that takes in vagabonds and the depraved.” His hand pressed into my back, urging me forward. “Gawel is an asshole, but I’ve known him a long time. I trust him.”
“You?” I peered up at him. “Trust?”
A slight reflex twitched his mouth.
With every step I took, I could feel energy leaking from me. My arm and leg throbbed, my stomach rolling with bile. You’d think my body would be used to being shot by now.
Gawel stepped into a room, flicking on a light. A gasp bubbled in my throat, my legs automatically stepping back, knocking into Warwick.
The room was cold, with white tile walls and floor.
A large drain was in the middle, collecting blood that dripped from the tables.
Slabs of indescribable meat, bones, intestines, and other animal parts were strewn across butcher tables or hung from hooks.
Cleavers, knives, and saws hung from racks spread around the room, while one table held a giant meat grinder.
The smell of it caused my stomach to churn.
Gawel turned back, noticing I hesitated at the door. “Don’t worry, girl. I’d gut him first . . . giving you time to run before I came after you.”
“Gennyla’da.” Shitbag. Warwick huffed with humor, his hands clasping my arms and walking me farther into the room.