Chapter 41 Cameron
CAMERON
The dark has never scared me, but what I just experienced was pitch-black. Fear of being in the dark, alone, and away from Emery is my personal hell.
I open my eyes and see the dim lights from the ceiling. What happened? Each breath I take is raspy, like I slept on the wrong side of the bed or something. Everything feels heavy.
I take a moment to process what I’m seeing. Pink dust on the floor, blood mixing with clay, Wraith lying at the entrance to the room.
It comes back to me like a fog settling over a lake. I was choking her…and then I woke up for enough time to…
My eyes drift down to my chest where I pierced my heart with the morphine. I overdosed. How am I awake right now? I search the ground next to me. Two syringes are side by side. One is the morphine I took and the other is labeled as adrenaline.
Relief sinks into me. Thank God. I’m not out of this life yet. A weak smile forms over my lips momentarily. Then I remember where we are and who we’re tasked with terminating.
Where is Emery?
Voices crackle through the headset. I flinch, forgetting that I had it on.
“Report in.” Erik’s voice is grave. I try to reply, only to find that my throat is torn to shreds, probably from the pink smoke.
It’s then that her soft fluttering voice sounds through my ears. “Volt and Red Turtle are with me, we’ve found the target. We’re moving in.” She sounds like she’s out of breath and injured.
I fucking hate it. I hate myself.
I should be with them.
My knees threaten to cave on me, but I force myself to move forward. I glance up and find a cord that connects to the adjacent building. The window pane has a red handprint against the wood. It’s small. Emery’s.
I press my hand to it and lean against the wood, swaying on my uneasy legs. Gage’s voice booms over the radio.
“Morphine’s down!” Gunfire sounds in the distance and then Gage cries out painfully. Damian shouts before the feed cuts off.
My hands clench the window seal, and I lift my weary head.
“I’m on my way,” I rasp into the mic.
The lieutenant sounds frantic to hear my voice.
“Mori? We thought you were dead!” He lets out an anxious laugh.
“Get going, soldier.” He expects me to kill everyone once Greg is dead.
He’s going to be in for a big surprise. I narrow my eyes with anger.
A throb of discomfort ebbs in my arm where Wraith gave me the Series X injection. The black veins are spreading.
I’m not out of the woods yet. I’d better hurry.
I ignore my stiff muscles and grab a bent rod, hooking it over the cord and sailing across the night.
I’m three-quarters of the way there when a sharp throb convulses the muscles in my wounded shoulder, and my hands instinctively release the rod in response.
The fourth-floor window will have to do.
I cover my face as my body collides through the window.
Glass shatters across the floor and I tumble with the momentum.
Alerted voices come from the next room over. I groan as I stand and limp to the door, rifle ready.
I kick the door open and it sends the nearest guard flying back on his ass. Bullets pelt the guy next to him before I land two in him as well.
My eyes drag the room and I instantly stop the second I see her.
Emery’s eyes are dull. She’s tied up. Her throat is coated in blood and haphazardly wrapped with medical tape. Gage and Damian are behind her, gagged and restrained. Both of them beaten rotten.
Greg Mavestelli stands in a sharp navy blue suit. His gold-tipped cane bloodied, and his closest men at his back. Reed stands among them, his features are smoothed to perfection, but I catch a flicker of malice and excitement in his eyes. He’s dressed like one of us. Like a Dark Forces soldier.
Greg Mavestelli’s voice curls through the room. “And here we thought you were dead.”