17. CHAPTER 17
Tilly turns the knob, and the door opens soundlessly with no resistance. They didn’t even lock it? Are they that confident or that stupid?
I follow him into a wide warehouse, and it’s just like the one they kept us in. He moves like a wraith, noiselessly and with determination, down the side of the building. I should’ve asked more questions about our game plan, but it’s too late. We’re in the thick of it now. He pauses to peek around the edge of the hallway then we’re off again. I follow the best I can, but I feel more like a drunken horse. It doesn’t help that he’s over a foot taller than me and his brisk walk is equivalent to my slow jog.
I’m lightly panting by the time he stops next to a closed door and presses his ear to it. The seconds tick by like the fuse at the end of a detonator. I want to find a hiding place; just the chance of being captured again makes me want to piss myself and this place looks way higher tech than the last one.
My heart’s racing with my breath. Tilly twists the knob and swings the door open in a quick swoosh, displaying an empty room with only a cot, toilet, and sink. He pushes the door all the way open then moves down the hallway to lean his ear against the next closed one. He barely listens this time, opening the door fully then continuing down the hall.
They can’t all be empty. No, one of these is going to have those sick bastards testing people. My stomach tightens, and my pace slows. Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I turn to scan the empty hallway behind us, but it remains clear.
Tilly pauses when the hallway Ts, cutting left and right, turning his head and checking both directions. He looks over his shoulder at me with an almost too-excited gleam in his eye, shrugs at me and turns right. Of course, he’s excited when I’m barely holding myself together.
What have I gotten myself into?
He moves door to door, listening and opening doors as he passes them. Despite my nerves, this seems too easy.
What if there are cameras, and they’re watching us right now? How did I not consider that before? I stop mid-step and examine the ceiling in front and behind us. Tilly gives me a confused look but moves onto the next door unfazed. I don’t see any in this hallway, at least, but we could’ve passed one on our way in. Well, there’s nothing I can do about that now. They either know we’re here or they don’t. I rush to catch back up with Tilly.
He quickly pulls back from a closed door, cocking his head, a grin slowly spreading across his face. Oh, no. Something’s in there.
He grasps my arm and pulls me to the other side of the hallway, his enormous frame leaning over drastically so he can whisper in my ear. “Surprise is our advantage. I’m going to throw the door open and go in swinging. You stay in the hall and block any of them from leaving. And if you see your friend, please identify her quickly so I don’t hurt her.”
I gulp and whisper, “Them?”
He nods, his grin widening, and bounces from foot to foot. Is he crazy? Goosebumps break out over my arms. I’ve let myself follow an insane man I barely know. What the fuck am I doing?
Elena. I’m here for Elena. She needs me. I never allowed myself to care for anyone but myself. Until her.
And Wyatt.
His image and smell, crystal clear, flood my mind. I shake my head. Now is not the time for that distraction. Even if he was a great distraction. That’s over with, and I need to focus. On Elena. This mission.
Tilly tries the knob, but it’s locked. He looks back at me, making sure I’m across the hallway from him, and nods questioning if I’m ready. I silently bob my head yes. I can’t really tell him no, no matter how much I want to run from here. We have to find Elena. I suck in a breath, and it freezes in my lungs. Tilly presses down on the handle. With a loud crack, it snaps right off. He tosses it to the floor, shoves the door open, and disappears inside.
The air rushes from my lungs, and hair rises on my arms from the growling and hissing.
“What the fuck?” Tilly’s baritone voice is louder than expected, and I glance down the hall, making sure the coast is still clear.
I approach the open doorway, my eyes bulging at the state of the three individuals inside. Two men and a woman, rabidly biting and clawing at Tilly. He swipes his leg out, taking the woman to the ground while punching one man in the face with such force his face caves and he drops to a dead heap. Tilly grabs the other man by the throat, holding him at arm’s length.
I’m frozen, slack jawed, just staring at these individuals. Both men have grey, ashy skin and the woman’s a deep, murky yellow. They all have longer fangs, like Tilly’s. But they’re nothing like him.
The woman’s dazed but slowly righting herself while the man in Tilly’s grip gets in a good kick to Tilly’s stomach. He’s barely fazed and slams the guy into the floor as the woman rushes him. With the fluidity of a dancer, Tilly spins, kicking her back across the room and lowers himself atop the man. The first man is still lying motionless by the bed with a puddle of blood pooling from his head.
The woman is now unmoving in the corner. Tilly’s sitting atop the man, pinning and restraining his hands. “Please tell me that’s not your friend,” he asks through his teeth, voice strained and agitated.
I unfreeze. “No. I…ah. No. I don’t know any of them.”
“Oh. Good.” He snaps the man’s neck with one quick motion. “Please state that sooner next time.” He jumps to his feet and snaps the woman’s neck, then stretches and turns back to me. The bites and scratches from the scuffle are now nothing more than dried blood on healed skin. I thought I healed fast, but that…
He sighs heavily, looking back at the bodies, shaking his head in disgust.
“What’s the matter with them?”
“They’re failed experiments.” His tone deepens and his muscles flex, the veins straining against his skin. “They’re trying to make the species stronger and more controllable.” His growing hostility is a tangible force beating against my skin. I step back into the hall, needing more space. His fists clench, and he turns back to me. “Mostly they’re just making monsters. Let’s continue.” He moves around me, avoids touching me. “Tell me sooner if you recognize anyone.” I flinch at the bite in his words but nod in agreement.
Tilly rips the next door open, the wood splintering and cracking, revealing an empty room. He didn’t even listen first. Are we not doing that anymore? Is he not concerned about being quiet now? He kicks in the next one, wood shattering to reveal an empty room and spiking his wrath. His reddened eyes glow brighter, and I cower from his growing rage.
He moves to the next door, and I follow, keeping a considerable distance. “What are you doing?” I whisper. I don’t know why the fuck I’m whispering after all this noise. But I can’t comprehend why he’s being so careless now. My normal voice wouldn’t come close to the ruckus he’s making.
“Finding your friend and taking out everyone else in the process.” His voice drips with venom.
I gulp then whisper, “Everyone?” My voice still refuses to go any louder. Maybe I’m just in shock?
“Everyone. They’re playing God and failing at it. They deserve to die for what they’re doing.” He rips the next door completely off its hinges and throws it down the hallway. It bounces twice and, with an ear-piercing screech, slides to a stop. Six of the monsters turn towards us. The excited chatter of their vibrating teeth sends chills up my spine.
“Teagan!”
I jump at Tilly’s yell.
“No… Sorry. I don’t know any of them.”
He growls, nostrils flaring, and enters the room. I’m frozen, watching from the hallway. Limbs fly from bodies. Necks snap. Screams echo in the confined space. I should help more, but the only movement I’m able to make is covering my mouth—a feeble attempt to prevent my dry heaving from turning into vomiting. Blood splashes and coats the concrete floor. Bodies drop with wet thuds as Tilly makes his way around the room in a blur of motion.
I shake my head. He’s not human… I mean, neither am I, but… But he’s something else. The strength, speed, and power. I’m trembling by the time he enters the hallway again. He briefly stops and winces, shoulders sagging at my expression. Then he turns, averting his eyes, and continuing down the left side of the hall toward stairs leading to a second floor.
He kicks in two more doors and rips another clean from its hinges, but all the remaining rooms on this floor are empty.
Tilly pauses at the base of the stairs and waits for me to step up next to him. He leans down to whisper in my ear, and I flinch. He recoils with a stoic face then nods at me and leans in slower. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
My mouth is so dry, I can only nod.
A shout from above has me jumping, and my gaze drifts up the winding staircase. People frantically shuffle around up there, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.
“Hey! Eyes on me.” I try to focus on him. “I know you’re scared, but I won’t hurt you. And I won’t let them hurt you. Do you understand?”
I nod.
“Good. We’re going to go up, and I’m getting some answers from people before I silence them. I just need you to block the exit and let me know if you see anyone you recognize. Can you do that for me?”
My lips tremble, but I whisper, “Yes.”
“I’m heading up now. Count to ten, then follow.” He doesn’t even wait for me to answer just turns, and in a blur of motion, he’s up the stairs.
How…how can he move that fast? Shouts of alarm and people calling out in pain drift down to me.
I suck in a hiccupping breath and fight to hold back my tears.
Count. I need to count. One. Two. Deep breath. Three. Four. A piercing scream has me gasping and taking a step backwards. I wrap my arms tightly around myself. Five. Six. I wipe a stray tear from my cheek. Seven. Eight. Something smashes against the right wall and the entire building shakes. I glance up at the ceiling, my shoulders hunching towards my ears. Nine. Ten.
Forcing myself forward, I place a foot on the first stair and grip the railing like it’s a life preserver. Okay. I’ve got this. Talking myself up more and more with every step, I turn with the winding staircase and the top floor comes into view.
My steps falter and freeze at the sight of the carnage. All the side doors are kicked open or ripped from their hinges. I force myself onward, but my pace slows. There are so many bodies. From the left to the right, bodies lie scattered around the floor, blood oozing and gushing from each. He did all of this in only ten seconds?
One security guard is alive but restrained against the back wall in front of locked double doors, his partner unmoving in a bloody puddle at his feet. Everyone’s slaughtered. Tilly has the remaining person pressed against the wall in a chokehold, his white lab coat a stark contrast to his deepening pink cheeks. Tilly’s fingers flex with ease, and the man takes in a gulping breath of air, his feet dangling and kicking frantically.
I come to a stop at the top of the landing. It’s hard to make out through the copious amounts of blood, but I think I see lab coats on three of the unmoving forms.
Ten seconds. It took Tilly ten seconds to not only restrain two people but kick down doors and butcher everyone else.
Ten fucking seconds. If I’m being generous, including my worrying, maybe fifteen seconds. But still…
My mouth’s ajar. I slowly step around a growing puddle of blood, taking in all the bodies littering the ground.
And I’m supposed to be safe with him?
“Now, doctor.” The man’s eyes immediately glaze over, his frantic grabbing and kicking ceasing. “What’s behind those locked doors and why the need for two guards?” Tilly relaxes his hold on the man’s throat enough for him to speak, but he’s still pressed against the wall with his toes barely brushing the floor.
“Those subjects are advanced but not stable. It’s not safe for them to get out.” His voice lacks all inflection and emotion.
Tilly growls, veins popping in his corded neck. His hands clench, and the doctor gargles. Tilly sighs and loosens his grip a fraction.
“How long have you been running these types of experiments here?”
“Nine months,” The doctor answers robotically.
“And where did the idea come from?” Tilly’s voice goes dark and gravelly, and the little hairs on my arms stand tall.
“A military general named Zos is in charge.”
Tilly roars, nostrils flaring, and he’s physically vibrating with fury. I flinch, taking a hesitant step back at the bone-chilling outrage. I step into the tacky stickiness of drying blood.
Tilly releases the doctor, and he falls to the floor in a heap. Tilly turns and, with a guttural groan, punches a hole straight through the wall, the light from the street barely peeking through. He retrieves the doctor and shoves him back against the wall.
“Where is Zos now?”
“They left for another facility two days ago.”
“They? Who are they?” Tilly’s voice is bitter as he bites out each word through clenched teeth.
“All the military high-ups and any of the still-healthy subjects.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and involuntarily take a tiny step forward.
Tilly glances at me then back at the doctor.
“Where were they taken?” He’s shaking and keeps clenching and unclenching his free hand. He’s fucking terrifying. But he’s on my side, right? I take another tiny step forward.
“To a more controlled facility in South America.”
A sigh escapes his clenched teeth. “A girl named Elena. Is she with the group that moved?”
“I only know them by their subject numbers not their names.”
Tilly bares his teeth inches from the man’s face, a mix between a rumbling growl and sharp hiss filling the room.
I whimper and wrap my arms around my torso.
“The girl that was in that room—” He screams, spittle flying from his mouth onto the man’s face, and thrusts a finger toward the destroyed, empty room directly behind him. “Where is she now?”
Wait, she was here? How did he know she was in that room? Hope has me inching even closer.
“She went with them.”
Tilly bellows in frustration, and the doctor’s head flies across the floor toward me, leaving a bloody splotch with every bounce. I squeak and step to the left to avoid it. Tilly turns to the remaining security guard.
The man, bruised, battered, and bloody, starts crying and whining louder.
“Please, God. No.”
Tilly’s rage boils higher and his veins and muscles become more defined and pronounced. “Your God’s not here at the moment.” He nods toward the doors behind the guard. “How many are inside?”
“Oh, no!” He cries harder, struggling against his restraints.
A rumble comes from deep within Tilly’s chest. “How. Many?”
The guard and I both flinch at each bellowed word.
“T-T-Twelve. But…but you can’t open the door.”
Tilly humorlessly chuckles and steps up into the guard’s face. “I’m certain I can.”
“They…they can’t be set free.”
“Oh. Don’t worry. None of you are leaving free.” Tilly snaps his neck, the loud crack echoing against the walls then grabs both door handles. They groan, locks snapping, and wrench open. He disappears into the darkness.
My rubbery legs are glued to my spot, even though every fiber of my being is begging me to run the fuck away. I can’t see anything but a foggy blur of movement through the darkened doorway. But the sounds… I’ve never wanted to flee more, and I’ve done a lot of running from Patrick.
The grunts, hisses, thuds, growls, screams, and cracking send goosebumps over my skin. I could run now while he’s distracted. Get the fuck away from him. But what about Elena? I need him to help me find her.
One woman sneaks out of the broken double doors and pauses when she sees me. Her shoulders hunch up and she rushes me with a speed I don’t possess. My body tightens and tenses. I lift my arms up and squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for the blow. But it never lands. When I open my eyes, Tilly’s ripping her spine from the back of her body. He drops the bloody bones to the ground, the woman’s body collapsing to the floor with a look of shock on her features.
My eyes widen, brows raising, and I take in a shuddery breath. He ripped her spine through the back of her body. What the actual fuck?
He shakes some of the gore from his hand. “Were any of them your father?” He’s completely unfazed by all of this. And I can’t form any words…
I shake my head.
“Well, seems neither of them are here.”
I can’t process this right now. Without another word, I turn and head back down the stairs to an area with less bloodshed. I lean against a wall, gulping in breaths to ease my lightheaded queasiness. I’m not doing well. My stomach’s rolling, and I want to slide down the wall to rest my head between my knees.
But Tilly grasps my shoulder, and I freeze midway with a small whimper.
He releases me instantly. “You can’t sit here. We need to go.”
I shake my head, but the greyness wafting down the stairs in curling ribbons of smoke stops me. Tilly nods and helps me stand, pushing me forward on unsteady legs.
I barely take three wobbly steps before he scoops me up into his arms. I tense but don’t fight him. It would be pointless. He carries me back through and out of the warehouse and sets me down next to our parked car. My gaze remains locked on the burning top floor of the building, the crackling roar and growing eerie glow of the growing flames a sharp contrast to the dark, quiet street.
I’m frozen in shock. This was all for nothing. Ohhhh, except I learned how fucking terrifying Tilly is.
“We need to leave.” Tilly opens the passenger door for me, but I don’t move.
What all just happened? What does this all mean? We didn’t even find her. My nose scrunches, stinging, the sickening odor growing in the air as the flames dance against the night.
He nudges my shoulder, pressing me closer to the open door. “Get in, Teagan.” His voice is gentle.
I numbly drop into the seat, my brain racing, trying to process everything. It needs to catch the fuck up to where I am and what the fuck just happened…
He walks around to the driver’s side. And the only thing I can focus on right now is the fact that he’s drenched in blood, and this is a rental. Out of everything that’s happened, that seems like the stupidest thing to hyper focus on, and yet I can’t yet process everything else. “You’re going to get blood on the seats.”
“Ha.” He shrugs. “I am.” He drops into the seat next to me. Tilly pulls away, and we ride in silence for a few minutes.
That was all such a waste. Where is Elena? Where is Patrick? What are we going to do? What the hell is Tilly? Can I even trust him? What am I going to do?
My stomach clenches, an ache growing. Something isn’t right.
Maybe my body is just coming down from that entire ordeal. I’ve been through a lot tonight.
But the discomfort gets worse. The ache transforms from a dull sensation to a piercing, sharp pain. Ahh, my insides feel like they’re being scraped, like I’m being skinned from the inside.
It’s fine. It’ll pass. I’ve been through worse. As Tilly takes an on ramp, the excruciating pain tears through my core, causing an involuntary moan to escape my tightly pressed lips.
“What the…?” He pulls to a stop on the shoulder as sweat rolls down my face.
I look at him dead on. “I need to get back to Chicago. Now.”
Confusion then clarity cross his features. I want to ask about it, but I’m focusing fully on breathing through the waves of pain. He nods and pulls back onto the highway.
Tilly silently and calmly drove for a while. Not sure how long as I’ve mainly focused on controlling the pain. He didn’t ask any of his annoying questions, just drove with speed and determination. I’m not sure if it was for my benefit or his, but it unnerves me even more to see him not fidgeting or talking. Maybe he could tell I’m not doing well enough to handle it at the moment. Though the fluctuating levels of agony have stabilized and I’ve been able to breathe and manage it. But just barely, something is wrong. And he knows it too.
I should be terrified of him and demanding my space. Something’s not right with him. But he’s kept his word. He’s helped me; he hasn’t hurt me, and he didn’t let anyone else hurt me.
Another wave of cramps assaults my insides, and I grasp my midsection. Panting, I pull my legs onto the seat and rock myself from side to side. Tilly glances at me from the driver’s seat but doesn’t say anything. Resting my sweaty face against the cold glass, I close my eyes and try to sleep through the pain.
Wyatt’s face flashes through my mind. My eyes fly open, and I cry out in agony. Tears stream down my cheeks, and I claw at my chest. It feels like I got impaled down the throat with a fucking fire poker. I can’t breathe, and it burns. Oh, God. It burns.
“What the fuck!” Tilly jolts, jerking the wheel. He grabs my hands, pulling my nails away from the torn flesh on my throat and chest. He pins and secures them in my lap with one hand. “Shh.” He speaks quietly, trying to calm me, but it’s too much. It’s all too much.
I’m swarmed with the sights, smells, and feelings of Wyatt. It’s not just that I miss him. No. Something’s wrong. Is something wrong with him?
As if in confirmation, fire shoots through my chest in time with the question, and my spine arches off the seat. I’m gasping for air, and he releases my wrists when I start to convulse.
“Shit!” he shouts and swerves, taking the next exit.
My brain decides I’ve had enough, and everything goes black…