CHAPTER 31
Sparks
Forty-five minutes is a long time. Plenty of time for me to grip the steering wheel, planning forty-five different ways to kill anyone who dared to lay a finger on Astrid.
Forty-five different ways to exact my revenge.
Red tints my vision as the thunder crashes.
Lightning sprawls along the sky, crackling as it feathers out.
I flex my hand, my scar a perfect match.
Despite being mid-day, the storm darkens the sky.
They know I’m coming. They probably have a plan in place, a way to stop me. I don’t feel like making it easy for them. I fumble with the silver stuck through my skin, throwing the earrings to the floorboard. My curls fall around my face in an unruly mess, matching my internal mania.
I’m coming, Astrid. Hold on.
The truck slows as I get closer to my destination. It’s a large metal warehouse. The loading doors are wide open, revealing a brightly-lit room inside. A crooked grin spreads across my face. Perfect.
I pull the truck over to the side and climb onto the roof. The rain soaks my hair, dripping from the sleeves of my leather jacket. Men in riot gear pour through the open doors, forming a human barrier to the warehouse. Great, I have their attention.
“Where is she?!” I roar. No answer. Instead, they creep forward as a group.
“How many of you touched her?” I take note of the ones that flinch at my words.
I better handle this quickly. Astrid’s waiting. I breathe in deeply as I close my eyes. The storm rages inside me, tumultuous, waiting to be directed. I am all too happy to oblige.
My eyes snap open as the sky flashes brightly.
My hand grasps the current and I slam it down, commanding it to fragment and scatter through the group.
Screams sound out as lightning strikes the ground, offshoots fling through the air until each man crumples to the dirt.
Only one man survives, writhing on the ground in agony.
I kneel on his chest, hand wrapped around his throat.
“Where is she?” I spit, leaning close to his ear.
“Inside,” he wheezes, barely able to speak.
“Thank you.”
I reach for the truck, directing its current into the sorry excuse for a man until the light leaves his eyes.
His death was too quick, but I need to find Astrid.
I grab his gun and check the ammunition.
Rubber bullets. I toss the gun to the side.
I can do better with the knives strapped to my thighs.
Lightning flashes across the sky once again.
I’m coming, Astrid.
Blue sparks drip from my hands as I walk through the open doors of the warehouse.
Machinery and tools cover the floor. It looks like this is some kind of workshop, hastily picked as their last stand.
I pick up an iron crescent wrench, content with its weight in my hand.
A group of people stand on a metal gangway above, watching me slowly approach.
I see the bitch in the center, her pantsuit pressed neatly, hair coiffed without a single flyaway.
Marissa, was it? I gather a ball of energy in my hand, preparing to electrify the walkway, killing them all instantly.
“Careful, sweetie,” Marissa calls out, her condescension dripping like the rainwater from my hair. “I would think twice about your next choice.”
“Where is she?!” Anger fuels me as the wind rips at my clothes and hair. I am a vortex of energy with only one goal. “Tell me where she is or I will kill you right here, right now.”
“If you kill me, you kill her.” Marissa leans forward, wrapping her hands along the thick metal railing. She glances to the left and I follow her gaze to the trembling figure kneeling at the end of the walkway. A blindfold is ripped off, and blue eyes meet mine.
Astrid.
The breath is ripped from my lungs as I see her again.
Her eyes, normally full of light and life, are dull.
Her long blonde hair is tangled and matted, its luster lost. She’s shaking as her hands grip the railing, her torso covered in dark blotches.
My fists clench as I realize that those marks are bruises, layered from several beatings.
Dried blood has left trails from a cut on one of her eyebrows and a split lip.
“You’re alive?” Astrid says in disbelief. “But… I heard the gunshots. They killed you.”
“They gave it a go, but I’m okay.” My heart breaks seeing the emotions flickering across her face. I can’t imagine what she went through this past week, but I’m here now. “I’m going to get you out, Astrid.”
“You shouldn’t have come back,” she speaks softly, as if every word hurts. Tears well in her eyes. Her head droops, lowering her gaze to her knees. “You’re supposed to be in San Francisco.”
“I couldn’t go without you, baby.” I step forward. I just want to run my hands through her hair, tell her everything will be alright. “From now until forever, remember?” A tear rolls down Astrid’s cheek.
“How touching!” Marissa clasps her hands to her chest. “I love a romantic reunion, but unfortunately, I have other things to do today. Be a good dear, Charlotte, and get down on your knees, hands behind your head.”
“Go to hell, Marissa.” I twirl the wrench in my hand. The electricity in the building flickers as I hold it in my grasp. “Let me know when you’re ready, Astrid.”
“Astrid, do you need me to remind you of the rules?” Marissa hisses, slowly making her way down the walkway.
Astrid shakes her head, her white knuckles gripping the railing.
Marissa stands next to her before looking back at me.
“You see, Charlotte, Astrid has been a very attentive student. She knows the rules, even if you do not. Astrid knows better than to use her powers. It’s not permitted. ”
“Astrid, don’t listen to them!” I run forward and hurl the wrench through the window closest to her. The glass shatters, rain falls onto the windowsill. “There’s your water! Use it!”
Instantly, everyone on the gangway aims their guns at Astrid. She cowers, ducking away from the barrels. Marissa yanks a fistful of hair, forcing Astrid to meet her barbaric gaze.
“I didn’t do anything!” Astrid shrieks, pleading desperately. “I wasn’t― I didn’t―” She sobs wretchedly as Marissa releases her grip, smiling arrogantly at me.
“Seems our training worked,” she taunts as the men lower their guns. She turns to me. “I’m excited to break you too.”
Astrid. How did this happen? You promised to stay strong, to keep fighting. Please, don’t give up. Don’t say I’m too late.
I roll my shoulders back. Her story won’t end like this. I quickly count the men standing on the gangway. Ten men, give or take. I can do this on my own.
I spare one last look at Astrid. Tears glisten as they roll down her cheeks. She glances up at me, grief etched over her face. Then, so quickly I think I imagine it, she winks.