Chapter Seventeen
Addie
My mind races with all the delicate relationships hanging by a thread and about to break even as Creed pulls the truck into the parking garage of what appears to be the Las Vegas Neonopolis Entertainment Center.
I sit up, confirming this information, and sure enough, he cuts hard right to the lower level of the twenty-thousand-square-foot facility. “Why are we in a shopping center?” I ask as we travel toward the basement level. “I feel like we’re about to be trapped.”
“It’s not just a shopping center,” he corrects. “It’s a shopping center, movie theater, and games facility, and as it turns out, an excellent cover for our inner-city operation. Crowds discourage windwalking and battles. Even Julian prefers off-radar operations. At least for now. Until he’s ready to take over.”
“Don’t say that as if it’s going to happen,” I say, shivering at the idea of it. “Like it’s just a matter of time.”
He stops the truck in front of a steel wall and then punches a code into his cell phone. The doors open with rocket speed, and he glances over at me. “I’d kill him before I let that happen.” He pulls us through the open doors.
His response niggles at a question in the back of my mind, and I don’t hold back. “Why didn’t you kill him while you were in Zodius City?”
He pulls into a parking spot next to Carrie, and my heart squeezes with memories. I love that car because he loves that car. Because it’s a part of him. Because it’s a part of the window of time when we were falling in love, even if we never confessed those feelings.
I felt them.
I felt him, and it, and us.
“You have no idea how I salivated to kill that man,” he confesses, his words dragging me back to the brutalness of present day. “I would have done it the day of the Area 51 takeover,” he continues, “but the bastard had enough explosives strapped on his person and planted all over the facility to kill us all. Caleb and I both figured I’d kill him the minute he unhooked himself, but Julian is nothing if not thorough. He has chemical weapons set to go off in several major U.S. cities upon his death. I’ve never been able to find out who holds the remote. That’s why he remains untouchable.”
This was almost too much to comprehend. “Oh, my God. We have to find out.”
“I’m trying, sweetheart. Believe me, I’m trying. I would have been out of there a long time ago if I’d found that answer.”
My throat is sandpaper. “He’s frightening. All of this is frightening.”
“We need to move. We aren’t far enough underground to keep the Trackers from finding you, and the high concentration of people above ground will only mildly dilute your psychic energy enough to slow them down, not stop them.”
I pop open my door, trying not to think too hard about the reality of being hunted. Creed is beside me before I ever exit the vehicle, helping me out, his touch warm, but the urgency I sense in him still manages to chill me to the bone.
He guides me to the rear of the truck just as Jensen exits the elevators a few feet away and approaches in a deceptively casual saunter, his thick blond hair mussed up, weapons strapped to his shoulder, across his chest, and one on his jean-clad hip.
He greets me, of course, but he’s not overly friendly or rude. I’ve known him for years, met him about the same time as Creed, and like him quite a lot. Jensen is simply focused right now, listening as Creed replays what went down at my condo. “Holy fuck,” Jensen mutters, then casts me a teal-green apologetic look. “Sorry, Addie. No one wants you drug into this, but it keeps happening.”
“No one is dragging me into anything,” I say. “I went to Area 51 to help. Nothing has changed. We need that drive data decoded.”
“I’ve never met a government code I couldn’t crack,” he assures me with a cocky wink. “Creed might be better at scorching someone with a single dark look, but I’m the man with the computer skills.”
I laugh at the familiar, friendly jabs he throws at Creed, and Creed scowls in return. I’d missed this dynamic, and the hint of tenderness in Creed’s eyes tells me he’s aware of what I’m feeling.
And he feels it, too.
More and more, I see the truth in why Creed left, and I can’t imagine the hell he’d gone through inside Zodius Nation with Julian. He’s strong—so very strong. I’m proud of him, and I think he needs that from me because he feels none for himself.
“Let’s take a fast look,” Jensen says, indicating to the hard drive. “We don’t have much time. You two need to go before the Trackers find Addie.”
Unease ripples through me, and Creed slides a comforting arm around me, guiding me toward the building.
A few minutes later, I stand in a room full of computer monitors, munching on a protein bar, and drinking orange juice while Jensen works his magic, a crazy code on a screen in front of him. Creed’s on his sixth bar, has downed some sort of liquid supplement drink, and is now popping the top on a second.
“How do you feel?” Creed asks softly, studying me.
In other words, am I still sick? “Better,” I say, truthfully. For now. “Just tired. Wishing I was like you guys right about now and needed only a couple hours of sleep here or there.” I really wish for the past right now , I add silently, before any of this happened, maybe reliving a night curled into Creed’s side after eating a great meal and watching a movie.
He stares at me a lingering moment, as if he too might be thinking of the past, and then cuts Jensen a look. “We’re on borrowed time here, man. What do you have?”
“Hold your breath and count to sixty,” Jensen calls over his shoulder. “I need one more minute.”
Creed’s eyes fall on a newspaper on the table next to Jensen’s arm, and he curses, grabs it, and curses again. Jensen cuts him a look over his shoulder. “There are similar stories in four states.”
“What is it?” I ask, stepping closer to Creed to try to eye what he’s reading. “What’s going on?”
Creed tosses the paper down. “More missing women,” he explains. “Most of whom are probably already dead.”
Bile gathers in my throat. “Dead? I thought they were just experimenting on them.” Just experimenting. God. That sounds horrible.
“Ava has a new fertility treatment she’s developed from her pregnancy hormones,” he says. “Problem is, the women only have a fifty percent chance of surviving the process.”
My brows shoot up. “She’s pregnant?”
“Giving birth to the devil’s spawn,” Jensen mumbles, his fingers still pounding away at the keys.
“That was the unavoidable situation that kept Caleb from calling you the night we gave you that phone,” Creed adds. “We rescued fifty of the hundred women in Zodius City. I had to blow my cover to get them out.”
Oh God , I think. “What about the other fifty?”
“So brainwashed, they stayed,” he replies dryly. “At least half of them are probably dead now.” He scrubs his jaw. “And I’m not sure what saving the ones we saved did. They just replace them. New women, new trauma, new families thrust into heartache. We can’t win no matter what we do.”
“That’s not true,” I assure him. “You saved fifty women, and it will take time for them to replace those women. Time we can use to shut them down. No matter what, fewer women will die.”
“Not unless we actually stop Julian,” he counters.
Jensen rotates his chair around, running his hands down his legs. “I’m working with law enforcement to spread certain abduction profiles around the country. Bulletins are going out with public warnings.” He shifts the topic. “But back to the data. To start, Lawrence has two hundred troops headed to Dreamland in a few days.”
“I knew that,” I say. “They’re training to fight Zodius.”
“I don’t like it,” Jensen says. “Not with the threat Red Dart represents to the Renegades.”
Creed is fast to agree. “I say Dreamland needs to have a little mishap that keeps those soldiers from reporting.”
My rejection is instant. “If anything happens to Dreamland, my father will be suspicious.”
“I’ll see if I can hack West’s email,” he says. “I should be able to redirect their orders. Have them sent somewhere else. Make it look like a computer hiccup. That will buy us a few days to find Red Dart.”
I nod my approval. “That should work.”
“What else?” Creed presses, “Because we have to roll.”
“Lawrence is in possession of a stock of Green Hornets,” Jensen adds. “I’m assuming Brock gave them to Zodius, since we know he’s in bed with Lucian.”
“Maybe,” Creed replies dryly. “Or maybe it simply means my mother is as big a bitch as my father was a bastard. Selling to our government and the enemy at the same time.”
“What does that mean?” I ask at the same time as Jensen.
“Those bullets are made by Taylor Industries,” Creed informs us. “My family’s business.”
“You’re freaking kidding me,” Jensen murmurs, but it’s not really a question. More an incredulous statement.
“The technology was placed on the back burner years ago after some problems with product safety. The bullets imploded inside the weapons and injured the shooters. Obviously, they found a way around that. And Mommy Dearest doesn’t think twice about selling to a terrorist if the money is good. If my mother is involved with the Green Hornets, a weapon being used against GTECHs, it seems highly probable that she is involved with Red Dart, another weapon designed to be used against GTECHs. One to kill and one to control. Lawrence is nothing if not thorough this time. I’m going to need you to find a way into their database, Jensen.”
“Jesus,” Jensen murmurs. “And here I thought I had an effed-up family. I’ll get in. And not only will I get in, I’ll create a shipping order with the Green Hornet coordinates, and we’ll intercept the shipment before Lawrence ever knows they’re gone.”
Creed nods his approval, but I am not sure we’re looking at this the right way. “What if my father really is taking a stand against Julian? Those Green Hornets may be the only weapon that allows the soldiers to survive a confrontation.”
Creed is fast to disagree. “The Renegades, not those bullets, are the best chance this country has to stand against Julian. Your father’s forgotten that. I won’t let those bullets be used against our soldiers, and they will be if we leave them with your father.”
He turns back to Jensen. “Did you find anything on that hard drive about the crystal?”
“Not one damn word. But at least we have the location of the bullets and the information on the incoming soldiers who are meant to stand against the GTECHs. Diverting their arrival will delay Lawrence’s plans and buy us some time.”
“Zodius,” I correct. “The soldiers are meant to fight Zodius. I still don’t believe my father is turning against the Renegades. I know you both think he is, just as I know you think Red Dart is about torture, but it’s not. I have to go back and prove that. Then we can work with my father and shut down Julian. I have to go back. Tonight. I can’t run.”
Jensen shoots Creed a look and then turns back to his computer and begins working again. Creed’s attention is all on me. “Addie,” he says softly. “There is no maybe to any of this. Red Dart is a torture device, and the Renegades and the Zodius are both the intended targets.”
“You don’t know that.”
Jensen rolls his chair back and motions to the monitor. I walk to the computer screen and sit down, staring at what appears to be scanned paperwork.
And just like that, my world crumbles.
I am reading documents to the chiefs of staff, including the definition of Red Dart and the directives for its use: tracking and remote, intense torture . My eyes burn, and my heart hurts.
The past rushes over me and collides with the present and the clearly defined future. The immunizations. The God-like complex I’ve seen glimpses of. Did he ever think they were just immunizations? The lies.
So many lies.
I’m losing—I have lost—the man I’d considered a hero. Every action he’s taken has been to better himself, and every action seems to lead to lives lost or lives in jeopardy. My gaze lands on the newspaper Creed threw down. All those women already affected and torn from their families. Lost forever. And the ones who could still be new victims in the future.
My attention returns to the screen, and my eyes go wide at a certain paragraph. He’s testing Red Dart on GTECHs and humans. If Julian were to use this on humans, he’d rule the world. If my father were to use it on humans, he could too. That last thought sickens me more than any other. I have to consider the idea that this might be my father’s ultimate goal. Oh, he’d call it protecting his country, but it is really about controlling it.
I swipe angrily at the dampness streaming down my cheeks. There’s no time for emotions. I rotate around to Jensen and Creed. “I’ll help you destroy Red Dart, but I can’t do it from inside Sunrise City. I have to be close to my father.”
“You’re going to Sunrise City,” Creed replies. “That’s not up for negotiation.”
“I don’t care what kind of danger I’m in. This is potentially the end of the free world we are dealing with. I can’t go.”
Creed eyes Jensen. “We’re leaving.” And before I know his intent, Creed has lifted me out of the chair and guided me to the hallway, where I’m planted between the wall and his big body, effectively bullying me.
His hands plant on either side of me, caging me, but his voice is tender and calm. “I know this is hard, sweetheart,” he says. “But the Trackers are coming for you. We have to go underground. Then we’ll find a way to fix this together.”
“How? How do we do that when you want my father dead, and no matter what, I can’t want that? I can’t.”
“Addie—”
“Do you want him dead? Say it. Say it, because I need to know.”
He bends at the knees, bringing himself eye-level with me. “What I want is your safety. You’re my priority right now. You won’t survive the night if you stay here. You have to survive if you want to fight.”
He’s right—of course, he’s right—but hiding feels wrong. Guilt over so many things is eating me alive. “I helped my father. I stood by him. I—”
He kisses me—a deep, passionate kiss filled with the gentle strength I’ve always loved in him. Gentle. No matter how demanding or how stubborn this man can be, he’s always been gentle with me.
“We’ll find an answer,” he promises. “But we have to leave now. Okay?”
He’s asking despite the fact that we both know he’s not really asking at all, but it matters to me that he goes through the motions. I nod, unable to find my voice. I’m running, but only because Creed’s statement is accurate. I have to survive to fight. And I’m going to fight like I’ve never fought before.