27. Evie
EVIE
The steel gate drops toward the tracks.
Rook doesn’t slow.
I grip the railing with one hand and Falcon’s vest with the other.
“There’s no room!”
Caleb moves in front of me.
Of course he does.
The gate keeps descending.
Ten feet.
Six.
Three.
Rook ducks.
The maintenance vehicle shoots beneath it with inches to spare.
Metal shrieks across the top rail.
Sparks rain over us.
Caleb bends over me, taking the worst of them across his back.
The gate crashes down behind the vehicle.
We speed into the darkness.
For several seconds, no one speaks.
Then Cobra looks behind us.
“I’ll admit it. That was better than an explosion.”
Rook glances at him. “Don’t get used to it.”
The vehicle begins losing speed.
The electric motor coughs once.
Twice.
Then dies.
Silence closes around us.
Falcon’s breathing is louder than it should be.
I turn on my flashlight and check his bandage. Blood has begun seeping through the outer layer, but the flow has slowed.
“You’re staying with Shark.”
Falcon reaches for his rifle. “I can still fight.”
“With one arm?”
He raises the weapon and aims at a dark security camera above the tracks.
The lens shatters.
“I’ll manage.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I hear that a lot.”
“Usually from women,” Cobra says.
Falcon’s laugh ends in a grimace.
The pain is worsening.
Rook sees it too.
“Shark, stay with him.”
Falcon shakes his head. “No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
The humor disappears from his face.
He nods once.
Fathom connects his tablet to the vehicle.
“The motor was shut down remotely.”
“Can you restore it?” Caleb asks.
“Not without access to the rail network.”
The stolen drives flash inside their case.
Nine minutes.
Forty-two seconds.
“What’s our distance from the train?” I ask.
“Unknown.”
“But it’s still close enough to communicate with the drives.”
“Yes.”
Rook steps onto the track. “Then we walk.”
We move forward on foot.
Shark remains beside Falcon, keeping him near the center. Cobra guards the rear. Fathom and Mac walk ahead of them.
Caleb refuses to let more than an arm’s length separate us.
Every few steps, his gaze shifts toward me.
The fifth time, I catch him.
“You keep checking.”
“I know.”
“You said it.”
“Said what?”
“That you know.”
He watches the darkness ahead.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
The simple admission steals my next breath.
“You won’t.”
His jaw tightens.
“You can’t promise that.”
“No. But I can promise I won’t walk away while you’re trying to protect me.”
He looks at me.
Red light from Fathom’s tablet catches the hard angles of his face, the blood dried along his cheek, and the exhaustion beneath his eyes.
“You don’t have to stay because I came for you.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you here?”
I step closer.
Our arms touch.
“Because somewhere between that parking garage and this mountain, you stopped being the man sent to rescue me.”
His breathing changes.
Only slightly.
But I hear it.
“What did I become?”
Before I can answer, a suppressed rifle shot cracks through the tunnel.
Caleb slams me against the concrete wall.
The bullet strikes where my shoulder was a heartbeat earlier.
“Sniper!”
Shark searches the tunnel through his optic.
“I don’t see him.”
Another round strikes the rail beside my boot.
Caleb pushes me behind a concrete support.
“He’s shooting at Evie,” Rook says.
The third shot hits the wall inches from my head.
Not random.
Not warning shots.
Each round is getting closer.
Mac stares into the darkness.
His lips part, but no sound emerges.
“You know who this is,” I say.
His gaze remains fixed ahead.
“I know who it might be.”
“Name,” Rook demands.
“They called him Specter.”
Falcon’s attempt at humor vanishes. “That’s comforting.”
“He was the best marksman the First Circle ever trained.”
Caleb settles behind his rifle.
His breathing slows.
His face empties of everything.
Fear.
Pain.
Even anger.
“Not anymore,” he says.