Chapter 54 #2
They’re closing in, but our aim is true.
Mako and I provide cover for each other, and one by one, the soldiers drop like flies.
Determination floods my body as I fire at the enemy.
I need to get to Fiona, damn it. It feels like an eternity before Mako takes out the last man standing, and the corridor goes silent.
Deadly, eerily silent.
Smoke and gunpowder clog my nostrils. I’m breathing heavily. I keep my rifle up even as I scramble toward the last place I saw Fiona.
When I turn the corridor, my heart jumps into my throat.
She’s half sitting, half slumped against the wall, clutching her side. It’s hard to tell in the smoky hallway, but her face has lost all color. I see the red stain spread all over the left side of her body and lunge toward her.
“Fiona,” I say urgently. “Where were you hit?”
I press down on her side, trying to stop the bleeding, but I have no idea where it’s coming from, and soon my hands are slick with her blood.
Her breathing is shallow, her voice barely a whisper as she says, “Too…late…”
“Stop. Nothing is too late. Let’s get you out of here.”
As her blood seeps through my fingers, I can see her eyes starting to glaze over.
“Gut…shot,” she wheezes. “And…lung…”
Panic clamps around my throat. Shit.
“Lung’s filling…with blood.”
I swallow my fear. “Can you try to heal yourself?”
She tries to shake her head, but she’s so weak it’s barely perceptible. “Doesn’t work that way.”
Mako stumbles around the corner, halting when he sees Fiona. “Oh shit.”
I look up at him. “You need to go. Get everyone to the airfield.”
“But—”
“Mako, please. There are scared people waiting up there. Get them and Poppy to safety. I’ll take care of Fiona.”
After a beat, he nods and hurries away. I turn back to Fiona, trying to stanch the blood pouring out of her abdomen. But even if I can get the bleeding of the gut shot under control, there’s nothing I can do about her lung.
She’s going to drown in her own blood.
“Wren,” she croaks. Weak, ragged. “Need to say…”
“Stop talking. Just hold on. Let me try to stop this bleeding.”
“…to say I’m…sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I tell her. “Please, stop talking. You’re making it worse.”
Fiona’s lips part and her hand rises, shaking wildly, as she tries to reach for my blood-soaked fingers. “Didn’t want you…around Poppy…” Her breathing is getting weaker. “Too close to her.”
I apply more pressure on her side, but the blood continues to pour out like water from a faucet.
“You need to stop talking,” I say, unable to process what she’s telling me. “Please.”
“Trying to protect her,” Fiona croaks.
I hear another burst of gunfire in the distance. It sounds far away, like it’s coming from the main hatch, but that doesn’t mean we have the luxury of time.
Sure enough, Mako’s voice fills my earpiece a moment later. “Darlington, you need to get out.”
I ignore him and focus on Fiona, who’s still struggling to speak.
“Do…anything…to protect her.” Her eyes, completely glazed now, attempt to focus on mine, but I can tell she’s fading. “Protect her…for me?”
A lump forms in my throat.
“Darlington,” Mako says again. “I’ve got a truck full of civilians we need to get to safety.”
I touch my earpiece. “Go without me.”
“Wrenny—”
“Just go. I’ll find my own way.”
“There are two bikes stashed in the carport,” he says. “I’ll see you back on the base.”
“Be careful,” I tell him.
I cut the feed to find Fiona still struggling to speak. “Promise me,” she pleads. “Promise you’ll…protect Poppy. Don’t let…them…take her.”
“I won’t,” I assure her. “I promise I’ll take care of her.”
I hear gunshots in the distance, and I scan the corridor for any signs of movement.
“Need…to go,” Fiona tells me. Her eyelids flutter as if she’s desperately trying to keep her eyes open.
When they finally close, I know she’s gone.
For a second, I sit there, still clutching her blood-soaked abdomen. Then I slowly release the pressure, letting my hands drop. I push myself up on unsteady legs.
I scramble up the ladder, emerging from the hatch a moment later, sucking in gulps of fresh air.
It’s nice to be out of the smoke, but I’m nowhere close to being out of danger.
I glimpse the Command vehicles in the distance.
When I check in with Mako, he says they don’t have a tail yet.
Teriq had ordered the trucks to head toward the airfield in Ward E, but I have no idea what the plan is beyond that.
I just pray they make it out of this ward before anyone spots them on the road.
I race toward the small carport that’s tucked away in the shadows. It looks like an abandoned shed, nothing but broken wood and debris, but Mako said there were two bikes here. I’m almost on top of them when a figure emerges from behind a stack of abandoned supply crates.
My rifle slides upward.
“It’s me!” Poppy blurts out.
I lower the gun. “What are you doing here?” I snap, unable to contain my anger. She was supposed to be in the truck with Mako, damn it.
“I told you I’m not leaving without my mom.” She looks past my shoulders. “Where’s Mom?”
“Poppy,” I start, regret flooding my chest.
“Where is she?”
“She took a fatal hit in that gunfight. She didn’t make it.”
Her face collapses. “And you left her there?”
“She was gone when I left.”
“I need to get her!”
Poppy tries to bulldoze past me, but I intercept her, grabbing her arm. “We have to go. Now.”
“No! I need to get her!”
“If you go back down there, you’ll die. Is that what you want? Because I know for a fact that’s not what your mother would want. She asked me to get you out of here, and that’s what I intend to do. Please don’t make me knock you out and throw you on the back of that bike.”
Her body is trembling wildly, tears running down her cheeks, but then she sucks in a deep breath and follows me. I’m pulling one of the bikes upright when I hear them. Motorcycle engines.
“Someone’s coming,” she says anxiously.
“I know. We need to move.”
But the approaching vehicles are speed bikes.
I’ve barely gotten our own bike started when the Command is upon us.
Instantly, I shove Poppy behind those supply crates and fire at the incoming soldiers.
One of the figures falls off their bike, which goes fishtailing across the pavement and smashes onto its side.
The other rider dives off the second bike before my bullet can connect with his chest. It pings off the handlebars instead.
A bullet whizzes past my own ear as the soldier gets off a shot even as he rolls onto the ground. This guy has no fear, and my stomach suddenly clenches, because that was a very Cross move. What if he’s—
No, this man is shorter than Cross, I realize in relief. He jumps to his feet, his gun aimed on me.
Mine is trained on him, too, as I calculate the odds of getting more than one shot off.
“Don’t move.”
I recognize the voice.
Not Cross. But I know him.
When he pulls off his helmet, I immediately recognize him from Silver Elite. Theo. He was there when I was training, acting as one of my fake captors during a unit called Resistance to Interrogation. He knocked me around and then we had to work together. He was funny.
And now we’re here squaring off in the dark, guns pointed at each other.
“Darlington?” Recognition fills his eyes.
“Hey, Theo.”
We didn’t work together on any ops, but I liked him. Cross said he was a good guy.
I really don’t want to kill him.
But there are no good guys here. Haven’t I learned that lesson already? Roe and Travis are killing civilians, and who knows how many Mods died in tonight’s ambush.
I tighten my finger on the trigger. “I will kill you, Theo. So please, just get on the bike and ride away.”
He takes a slight step.
“I mean it. Move and I’ll shoot.”
My gaze flits to the supply crates where Poppy is hiding. She stares back at me, eyes wide.
“There’s a red threat for you,” Theo says. “I have orders to kill you on sight.”
“We both know I’m the better shot.”
The seconds tick by.
One.
Two.
Three.
Just when I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m about to kill a man in cold blood, Theo charges at me.
I get off a wild shot. It explodes on the gravel, sending chunks flying up. He shoots, too, but misses, then growls in frustration when I manage to kick the weapon out of his hand before he can fire again. It skitters away, but rather than lunge for it, he lunges for me instead.
He’s bigger than me, and far more muscular, knocking the wind out of me when he tackles me to the ground. We tangle together on the dirt and dust, but I’m no match for him. He’s on top of me, the heavy weight of his body pressing down on my chest. It’s hard to breathe.
Theo gets his hands around my throat. “Fucking hell, Darlington,” he mutters, as if he really doesn’t want to do this but has no choice.
My windpipe feels like it’s being crushed. I gasp, desperate to draw air into my lungs. My vision blurs, and I feel myself losing strength when a new sensation comes over me.
Pain.
A stabbing sensation. Like someone shoved needles under my skin.
Theo’s grip loosens a little, and I cough.
The pain spreads from my neck down to my chest and arms, and suddenly his grip loosens entirely.
Theo sits up, eyes wild with terror.
A second later, his entire body starts to twitch. I watch in disbelief as his face contorts with agony. His arms trembling. Chest jerking, more and more violently, as if an electric current is running through his body.
What the hell is happening?
I lie there gasping for air, coughing.
Theo’s grunting now. A pained guttural sound.
Then I see her.
Poppy stands off to the side. I don’t have a view of her arms, but I can see her wrist and it’s glowing, silver flowing through her veins. Her gaze is fixed on Theo, brow furrowed in concentration.
“Wha…” he chokes out, then clutches his chest and lets out a hoarse scream.
“Poppy,” I call out weakly, “what are you doing?”
She doesn’t answer. Her gaze remains on him. She holds out her hand, and Theo begins thrashing on the ground, falling onto his back.
Poppy takes another step, and I tense. Her eyes have a dead numbness to them. Her fingers clench a little, as if she’s holding an invisible rock, and then Theo’s chest convulses like he’s being shocked by defibrillator paddles.
She squeezes her fingers tighter around that invisible rock, and Theo twitches one last time before going still.
He’s dead.
Poppy lowers her hand. She’s breathing hard. So am I. My heart feels like it’s going to pound its way out of my chest. I can’t form words or thoughts. All I can do is stare at her. I’ve never seen anything like that.
“What did you do?” I whisper.
Her face is completely devoid of color, beads of sweat dotting her forehead. “He was going to kill you.”
I keep staring at her. I can’t reconcile this teenage girl who’s trembling in front of me with the person who just wielded that power. She killed Theo without even touching him.
“We…need to go,” I finally say. My knees wobble as I stumble to my feet. “Get on the bike, Poppy.”
Her gaze shifts to Theo’s lifeless form, then back at me. She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t need to. The gravity of what she’s done is clear to both of us.
I throw my leg over the bike. Poppy climbs on behind me and clings to my waist, her face burrowed between my shoulder blades. We’re both pushed back by the wind as I squeeze the throttle, giving as much gas as I can.
I try to check in with Teriq over the comm. No answer. I try Adrienne via telepathy next, and this time I receive a response.
“All the comms are dead,” she tells me. “They’re using signal jammers everywhere. What’s your location?”
“I’m alone with Poppy. I have no idea where to go.”
“Get to the airfield. Ev’s on standby.”
“Where are you?”
“We managed to get out. Saved who we could.” She sounds tired. “We’re en route to the airfield, too. Should rendezvous with you shortly.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and Karra.”
“That’s it? What about the others?”
“They took Teriq. Declan’s dead.”
Fuck. “How many other casualties?”
“I don’t know. A lot. They decimated the entire east section of the bunker. It’s a miracle we got out. And Evlynne isn’t responding. I’ll try her again now.”
She severs the link.
I draw a deep breath and attempt to reach out to Evlynne, too, but also to no avail. Her silence troubles me, but not as much as what greets us when we reach the airfield ten minutes later.
I scan the empty tarmac, my stomach in knots as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. Or rather, what I’m not seeing.
No plane.
No Evlynne.
Just shadows.
Poppy follows my gaze, panic lighting her eyes. “Where’s the plane?”
“Stay on the bike,” I say tightly.
I throw my leg over it and march down the tarmac. I don’t expect the aircraft to miraculously materialize out of thin air, but I’d like to case out the area to make sure we’re alone.
Where the hell is Evlynne?
And if this is a trap, where’s Command?
I poke her mind again. Then I poke again. And again. And just when I think she’s going to keep ignoring me, she lets me link.
“I’m sorry.”
Those simple words hang heavy with regret.
“What do you mean you’re sorry? Where the fuck are you?”
“I had no choice.”
Her voice trembles, and in that moment, I know exactly what she’s done.
Horror shoots through me. “It was you. You disclosed the location of Bramble?”
“I had to.”
“You didn’t have to do a godfucking thing, Evlynne.” I keep my back to the bike so Poppy can’t see the rage twisting my features. “You sold us out!”
“I did what I could to help you,” she says weakly. “I didn’t tell him about the secondary escape hatches.”
“Him?” A cold shiver runs up my spine. “Do you mean Travis Redden?”
There’s a pause. “Yes.”
“You’re working with Travis? Why the hell would you do that?”
“It was your idea.”
My jaw drops. I didn’t expect a betrayal from Evlynne of all people. The most loyal Mod I’ve ever known. A Severnist. And now she’s claiming I’m the one who precipitated it?
Screw that. I refuse to own this.
“It wasn’t my idea for you to betray your own people. Fiona is dead—”
“Oh shit.”
“—so tell me, how could I have possibly inspired this ultimate fucking betrayal, Evlynne?”
“You told me to reach out to Fisher’s father.”