Chapter 31
Thirty-One
The desert heat shimmers across the asphalt as I drive one of the trucks that didn’t get torched in my attack on El Centinela. I grip the steering wheel hard in a futile attempt to make the truck go faster.
My external wounds have mostly healed. But the one in my heart just keeps getting ripped wide open.
I had foolishly allowed myself to hope. Hope that it was over. That Graves' surrender meant Naomi would be safe. But I should have known better. Logan was still out there. His hatred is driving him to destroy me. Naomi will never be safe while he’s alive.
Static had made his way through the last tunnel before I destroyed it.
That’s when I got the call on the cell phone I had used to reach Graves.
It could have been Graves, confirming a drop-off time and location for Naomi.
But the pit in my stomach had formed before I even answered. Some part of me already knew.
"Walker," I answered, my voice steady despite the dread flooding my system.
"Hello, old friend," Logan said.
My jaw clenched. I couldn't ask the hard questions. Where is Naomi? What have you done with her? Those words stuck in my throat like shards of glass. I was only able to choke the easier one past my lips. "Where's Graves?"
"She's dead."
The words hung in the air. I couldn't speak. Logan laughed, the sound like ice down my spine. "But don't worry. Your girl is alive."
"Walker, don't—" Naomi's voice cut through the background, desperate and afraid. Then the unmistakable sound of flesh striking flesh. My blood turned to fire.
"Don't you fucking touch her," I growled, rising to my feet, every muscle in my body tensing to strike an enemy who wasn't there.
"No, Walk. You're not the team leader on this one. I am." Logan's voice hardens, all pretense of friendly banter gone. "I make the rules now."
"What do you want?" I ask, forcing my breathing to steady.
"I want to end this. But just you, me, and your girl here. I don't want anyone else at this party. Understood?"
I looked at Static, who was watching me intently, trying to piece together what was happening from my half of the conversation.
His hand was already moving to his laptop, ready to trace the call, ready to help.
But I knew Logan would have planned for that.
If I brought Static or anyone else, Naomi would die.
"Where?" I asked, already knowing I would face him alone.
Logan laughed again, softer this time. "Where it all began."
Click.
I looked at the phone, an impotent rage coursing through me.
"Logan," Static could barely make it a question. Who else would have painted that expression on my face?
I nodded. "He wants to meet me at Camp Titan."
"Why?" Static asked.
"I don’t know. That’s where it started. That seems as good a place as any to end it."
"What's the plan?"
"I have to go alone. He made that clear."
Static shakes his head. "Let me help, Walk."
"I can't risk it. If he catches wind you're helping me, he could kill Naomi."
"He could kill you. He's controlling the time. The place. You know that's a bad tactical situation. And you’re still not fully healed," Static said.
"You think I can't beat him?" I asked.
Static sighed. "You're good, Walk. The best of us. As a leader and person. But Logan was always the best killer. The program didn't change him. It only made him more of what he already is. You were never meant to be a killer, Walker. Logan loves it. We never did. That's the difference."
Now, driving in the truck, remembering the conversation with Static, I rub my hand down my face, still not believing him.
Though he’s right about one thing, I’m not quite fully healed, and even my genetically enhanced body is rubbing up against a wall of exhaustion.
It took some convincing to force Static to let me go alone.
I assured him that I was going to win. Nothing was going to keep Naomi from being safe.
But I also know I can only promise one of those things. I don't know if I'm going to make it out of this alive.
But my life doesn't matter. Naomi will be safe. I know that like I know the sun will rise tomorrow.
Camp Titan sits nestled in a forgotten corner of government ranch land. As I get closer, the road narrows. It turns to gravel, then dirt. From the looks of it, no one's been out here in years.
The sun is setting as I pull up to the abandoned base.
Camp Titan’s concrete buildings cast long shadows across the dry earth, like tombstones.
Weeds push through the cracks in the parade ground, nature slowly reclaiming what man had infringed on.
Windows are shattered, doors hang by hinges, and desert dust has painted everything in a colorless hue.
The gate is open in a clear invitation. As I drive through, memories flash unbidden. But as has been true ever since I met Naomi, it ain't what happened in the past that drives me. It’s what I need to make sure happens in these next few minutes.
I park and step out, scanning the base.
Logan isn’t hiding. He’s been waiting for me.
He stands in the center of what used to be our training yard.
Naomi’s on her knees and he's holding a gun to her head.
My rage flares in my blood again. Like when I first met her, she's back in a prison uniform.
Her hands are cuffed behind her back, and her legs are shackled, restricting any chance of escape.
I was hoping she could run when given the chance, but I'm going to have to figure out how to get her the keys if I can't beat Logan.
"Welcome home, team leader," Logan calls out, his voice carrying across the empty space. "Nice of you to join us."
I step closer, my eyes locked on Naomi. Despite everything, her gaze is steady, her chin lifted. God, I love her strength.
I love everything about her.
"Let her go," I say, keeping my voice level. "I’m here now. This is between you and me."
Logan laughs by way of answer— the one that’s haunted my dreams for years, the sound echoing off concrete walls. Logan presses the gun harder against Naomi's temple. She flinches. "Lose the armor and strip your weapons. All of them."
I hesitate, calculating angles, distances, probabilities. If I'm unarmed, my chances of lasting long enough to let her escape drop significantly. But the gun barrel is digging into Naomi's skin, Logan's finger hovering over the trigger.
"This can be a whole lot shorter if you want," Logan says.
I grit my teeth and comply, removing my tactical vest first, then my sidearm, the knife at my ankle. I place each item carefully on the ground, never taking my eyes off Naomi.
When I'm done, Logan lifts Naomi and steps forward, keeping her between us like a shield. His eyes glitter with anticipation.
"That's better," he says. The sun dips lower. Logan's face twists into something inhuman in the fading light. Or maybe it’s just revealing his true form beneath the surface.
"I was going to kill her first. In front of you. But I think it would be better to squeeze the life out of you in front of her. I want her to witness your failure."
My eyes flick to Naomi briefly. She looks afraid. For the first time she lets the brave mask slip and she looks truly terrified.
"We can settle things just like the old days. Remember how they used to pit us against each other?" He gestures toward a circular depression in the concrete nearby. "Let's see if you're still as good as you thought you were."
"Let's get this over with," I growl.
Logan shoves Naomi roughly to the ground, where she falls awkwardly with her hands still cuffed behind her. He tosses the gun aside.
We approach each other with deliberate steps, circling like wolves. Logan stands slightly taller than me, his frame carrying even more muscle than mine. I remember our training sessions here. I made him submit plenty of times.
But he also did the same to me.
I was the better strategic thinker.
He had raw, animal brutality.
And of course, I’m not thinking clearly. I’m worried about Naomi. And still weakened by injury.
For a moment, there’s a vicious, dark stillness, thin as gossamer. It’s torn when he and I rush forward at the same time, colliding.
Our bodies crash together with inhuman force, the impact echoing across the empty compound. His first strike nearly takes my head off. I counter, but he slips past my defense, driving a knee into my ribs that would shatter a normal man's bones.
Our movements blur beyond human perception. Punch. Block. Kick. Dodge. We're evenly matched for about ten seconds before Logan lands a devastating combination. My head snaps back from an uppercut that tightens a black frame around the edges of my vision.
"You seem tired, Walker," Logan taunts, barely winded. "Not a good showing in front of your girl."
I can’t help but glance at her. I need to get her cuffs off so I can distract Logan and she can escape. But Logan takes advantage of my distracted state, and he kicks my thigh, nearly disabling my leg.
I need to change tactics.
As Logan presses his advantage, I stop trying to win. Instead, I focus on one specific goal. His next punch connects with my jaw, but I accept the blow to grab his belt. My fingers dig deep into his pocket, and I find what I’m looking for.
Handcuff keys.
I pull them out, which costs me a punch to the kidneys that nearly makes me buckle.
The keys fall to the dirt, and I sweep them with my foot, sending them skittering across the ground toward Naomi. Logan realizes what I've done a second too late. His eyes flash with fury as he drives his elbow into my sternum, cracking something deep inside.
"You think that’s gonna make her safe?" he snarls, following up with another brutal knee to my gut. “After I kill you, I'm going to take my time with her.”
Logan slips behind me, his forearm crushing against my throat. I struggle, but his position gives him leverage I can't counter. The black aperture around my vision starts to close as he cuts off my air supply.