36. Evie
EVIE
Victor Kane’s arm tightens around my throat.
The pistol beneath my jaw is cold enough to burn.
“Put down the rifle, Caleb.”
Caleb stands ten feet away.
Blood runs from the cut along his cheek. His shirt is dark beneath his torn jacket, and exhaustion has carved deep lines around his eyes.
But his hands are steady.
His rifle remains aimed at Victor’s head.
“One,” Victor says.
Caleb’s gaze meets mine.
I try to tell him without speaking.
Don’t.
He sees it.
Of course he does.
“Two.”
Caleb lowers the rifle.
Not much.
Only an inch.
Victor’s attention follows the movement.
That inch is what Caleb wanted.
I drive my heel into Victor’s knee.
His grip loosens.
I twist beneath his arm and slam the back of my head into his face.
The pistol fires.
The shot tears into the ceiling.
Caleb crosses the distance before the broken concrete hits the floor.
He drives Victor into the wall.
The pistol flies from his hand.
I dive for it.
Victor catches Caleb by the vest and hurls him into a steel support hard enough to make the entire corridor ring.
Caleb’s rifle falls.
Victor draws a knife.
“Caleb!”
Victor lunges.
Caleb twists aside.
The blade slices through his jacket instead of his ribs.
He traps Victor’s wrist, but the man doesn’t slow. He strikes Caleb in the wounded side.
Caleb’s breath leaves him in a harsh sound.
His knees buckle.
Victor raises the knife again.
I fire.
The bullet strikes his upper arm.
Victor staggers.
Caleb sweeps his legs out from under him.
The knife skids across the floor.
Before Caleb can reach Victor, the lights go out.
Smoke pours from vents in the ceiling.
A hidden door opens behind us.
Victor rolls through it.
The panel seals before I can fire again.
Silence closes around us.
“Caleb?”
“I’m here.”
His voice sounds strained.
I find him by touch.
My hands move over his shoulders, chest, and ribs.
“Are you stabbed?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“He missed.”
My fingers touch warm blood beneath his jacket.
“You’re bleeding.”
“From before.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
Emergency lights blink on.
Caleb is leaning against the wall, one arm clamped over his side.
But his eyes are moving over me.
Checking.
Counting.
“Turn around.”
I almost laugh.
“You were the one fighting a man twice your size.”
“Evie.”
I turn.
His hands check the back of my vest and the side of my neck where Victor held the pistol.
Only when he’s satisfied does he breathe again.
“You didn’t put down the rifle,” I say.
“I was going to.”
“No, you weren’t.”
One corner of his mouth lifts.
“No.”
The steel door behind us remains sealed.
The team is on the other side.
Fathom’s muffled voice comes through the radio.
“Caleb? Evie?”
“We’re alive.”
Relief erupts across the channel.
Rook speaks over everyone else. “Status?”
“Kane escaped.”
Mac’s voice becomes sharp. “Victor Kane?”
“You know him?” I ask.
“I know what he is.”
“What?”
“The Warden.”
Caleb and I look at each other.
Mac continues.
“Warden is his title. He commands the Inner Guard, protects the Chairman, and executes anyone who tries to leave the First Circle.”
The panel in front of us unlocks.
Caleb raises his pistol.
The door slides open.
Rook stands on the other side with his weapon ready.
He takes one look at Caleb’s blood and my bruised throat.
“We need to move.”
“The Warden escaped through a hidden passage,” Caleb says.
Mac studies the wall.
“He’s going to the Chairman’s vault.”
“Why?”
“To destroy everything before we reach it.”
A deep rumble moves through the bunker.
The countdown flashes on Fathom’s tablet.
Six minutes.
Forty-two seconds.
Cobra checks the demolition pack against his shoulder.
“Then let’s beat him there.”