Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Sully
I hang lifelessly in Voijin’s arms. Very dramatic. Cue the applause.
At least I hope I look lifeless.
That’s what I’m going for. There are innumerable cameras recording—I’m told their numbers have doubled since my escape—so it’s important to maintain the illusion of the conquered fugitive being carried back to his prison cell.
But once inside, it’s harder to pretend to be unconscious. My adrenaline is pumping full blast. The swoop of the elevator’s descent drops my stomach. My eyes might be closed, but the sharp scent of disinfectant, citrus and chemical-sweet, alerts me to my location.
II Tech. I suppress a shiver. We’ve made it. We’re in.
“Calm down,” Voijin mumbles in a voice so quiet the recordings won’t pick it up. “Act normal and remember, don’t do anything rash. Wait until I give you a signal.”
A signal? What signal? We didn’t discuss a signal!
What’s he planning?
I’m tempted to bite him in the soft spot right where my face is smashed against his chest, but that’s not exactly a convincing act of an unconscious person. But at least now I’m angry. And being angry is better than being afraid.
I embrace it.
It’s nighttime, so most of the staff aren’t here yet, but the voice of our custodian, Hector, rings out loud and clear. “Shit, is that Specimen 19?”
I recoil at the number. That’s not who I am anymore. I was never just a specimen. I’m a whole ass person, damn it. But no one at II Tech is ever going to acknowledge that.
“Indeed,” says Voijin. “In the flesh.”
“He okay?”
“You care?”
“Sure. He was the easiest one.”
“He’s fine. Just unconscious. Is his room ready?”
“I’ll check.”
With the janitor busy, Voijin speeds past my old cell. I doubt they’d put me back there, unless it’s been reinforced somehow. I did a number on their stupid door. We head straight toward Hayworth.
We can’t talk to him yet, but he needs to see us. That’ll get him thinking. And talking. And we need word to spread like wildfire.
Voijin taps at glass. I’m tempted to open an eye for a peek at him, but I don’t.
“What the fuck?” Hayworth’s voice is gravelly, like a chain smoker, but he’s never smoked.
“Did you win or lose a bet?” Voijin’s slow molasses drawl strings the words together like a poem.
“Lose,” he answers, which surprised me. Hayworth bet on my success? Nice. So who bet I’d be caught?
I don’t really care, but getting my mind off my immediate circumstances is welcome.
“What will they do with him?” asks Hayworth.
Voijin doesn’t answer, but a lot can be communicated through facial expressions. He turns, away from the cameras probably, and says in a voice as quiet as a snowfall, “Be ready.”
Hector pipes up from down the hall, “This way, Mr. Koval.”
Mr. what now? You mean to tell me Voijin has a last name? And that fucker put it on my new fake ID?
Bastard.
I refuse to be “Saul Koval,” no matter how hard it will be to get papers with my own name. Or even better, with Ru’s name. Sully Martin. I like the sound of that.
But I don’t like the sound of metal on metal as my new door clinks behind us. It sounds distinctly harder to break out of than the old one.
“Did Kalinov show you how to work the new locking mechanism on the cuffs?”
“What cuffs?” asks Voijin.
Another clinking noise makes me cringe inwardly.
“To chain him to the bed?”
To chain me to the what? No way!
“That won’t be necessary.” Voijin bends, and I find myself summarily dumped onto a thin mattress on what feels like a metal cot. So my accommodations have received a serious downgrade since I’ve been gone. Bummer.
“Your funeral,” says Hector. “I’ll let bossman know you brought him in. He’s got plans for that one.”
A chill grips my spine. I knew coming back would be risky, but I didn’t have a choice. It had to be done.
I just need to make it through one more day here. One more day of living hell, then everything burns.
Ru
“We should get guns. Wait, can we buy guns in New York without a background check? I don’t even know. Doesn’t matter. Bad idea. Scratch it. Guns aren’t particularly effective against vampires anyway,” I ramble. “And I don’t know how to load a gun. Or fire a gun.”
My thoughts tumble as we speed down the highway. I tried calling Sully, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Voijin’s rings and rings and rings, but the damned vampire doesn’t answer.
“Eat your steak,” says Zoe from the driver’s seat. “We have two and a half hours to come up with a better plan than ‘please give us our sad vampire back.’ I’m sure we’ll think of something after you’ve recovered from blood loss.”
Right, because Sully drank too much. On purpose. “I can’t believe he did that.”
“You mad?”
“No.” Maybe I should be, but I’m not. More shocked than anything. Serves me right for not paying attention. “If I’d have taken him seriously, he wouldn’t have needed to sneak away. We could have gone together.”
“You’d never have agreed to that. Now chew.”
The plate is balanced awkwardly in my lap.
I have a fork, but not a knife. The food isn’t the least bit appetizing at the moment, but she’s right.
I should eat it. I saw ineffectually through the meat with the side of my fork, ripping more than cutting, and take a bite. Steak has never been more unappealing.
“Do you trust any of your coworkers?” she asks.
“Do I trust them… hmm.” I haven’t put much thought into it. “Not Jenkins, I don’t think. He’s too ambitious for trust. Maybe he’d help, but I can’t be sure. But Malachi… he’s more likely to help. I don’t want either of them caught in the crossfire.”
“I thought you vetoed getting guns.”
“The metaphorical crossfire.”
“Keep eating while I think out loud.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say around a mouthful of the stupidest spinach I’ve ever eaten. Vitamin C, to improve absorption of iron from the steak, because I need to boost my red blood cells. How is it my life has brought me to this place?
She taps the steering wheel with her painted nails. “What if our plan is just chaos?”
“Chaos.”
“Yes. Think about it. We call the local police department directly and report suspicious activity. Then call every volunteer fire department in a thirty mile radius and report smoke coming from the building. We each dial 911 and say the receptionist at the distribution center is having a heart attack or some shit. Get them all out here. The crazier the better—”
“Then we grab him amidst the chaos.”
“Right.”
“That’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.
For that matter, we could call a bunch of news stations.
Start a rumor about the underground facility.
Tell them they’re working on chemical warfare or some other cover story.
The actual II Tech crew will flip their lids worried about having their cover blown.
There are real world consequences to exposing the preternatural to the general public.
Reasons it hasn’t been done. Damage control elements in place to keep the spread of information minimal. ”
“So if we go with this plan, and the shit hits the fan, whose side would your coworkers be on?”
“My best guess? Jenkins sides with Kalinov, my boss. He’s always kissing that guy’s ass. But Malachi? Malachi strikes me as a good person. A moral person. If a bunch of innocent humans suddenly find their way to the premises, he’s going to want to keep them safe.”
“What if we call him up now? Fess up. Get him in on it proactively?”
“It’s a risk.”
“Playing it safe might not be enough. Plus we’re the backup crew, right? I mean, Sully’s bound to have some plan of his own. A little something something he cooked up with Voijin, who’s like a big wig and theoretically has a lot of power. Sully isn’t expecting our help, so anything we do is bonus.”
“How are you so clearheaded about this? I feel like I’m going crazy right now.”
“Well, for one, I like Sully a lot, he’s great, but I’m not in love with him the way you are.”
My face heats and my chest aches all at once. What’s happening to him now? Is he in danger? It’s too much. I’m so worried.
“And for two, I didn’t let him drain a couple gallons of my blood like a lovesick puppy the way you did.”
I scoff. “He didn’t take gallons. I barely noticed.”
She rolls her eyes. “Use your brain then. Malachi. Help or hindrance?”
Fuck, I don’t know. My gut says he’d help, and it’s possible he could be a big help, probably with something even Sully hasn’t thought of. Something important.
“I think I have to risk it.”
“Okay. Then call him, and let’s find out.”
With no small amount of trepidation, I grab my phone.