Page 14

14

TREY

The sign reads 317 Weapons Technology Lab .

On the black device near the door handle, I wave Katie’s ID card. It beeps, and a little light flashes green. I let myself in and shut the door behind me.

The room is dark. Instead of turning the lights on, I toss a fireball into the air. My flames hover beside me as I pin my back against the door. My hands shake as my breaths turn ragged.

Can I really pull this off? Me against a hundred? Maybe two hundred? Fuck. The idea of that many people coming at me at once is gruesome. I won’t stand a chance. I can’t do this. This is crazy. Why the hell am I doing this?

An image of Arella pops into my head. She’s probably handcuffed to my old bed right now, scared out of her mind. She’s probably more freaked out than I am. Trapped in a place with people she doesn’t know? That’s frightening. I can’t imagine what went through her head when she saw everyone using their powers.

I have to do this. I have to save her. And if I die in the process, at least I died trying.

I expand my empathy outward. The closest emotions are from several rooms down the hall. It’s two people, and they’re... well, they’re having a good time, that’s for damn sure. I don’t think I’ll have to worry about them getting in my way.

Up in the security room, everything seems normal. Two people. Both are content. They’ve got too many screens to keep an eye on for them to have noticed me casually strolling into this room. The rest of the base seems clear too. No one feels alarmed or is running toward me. For the moment, I’m good, so I rush to the back cabinets.

Hold on... Did Katie say left or right? Shit!

I think she said right. I pull the door of the top cabinet. It clicks against the lock. I wave a hand at the keyhole and try again.

The cabinet opens. Inside are a bunch of small throwing knives lined up in four neat rows. Knowing ZIRDA, they’re probably much more than simple throwing knives. They could be laced with something. Either way, they aren’t perrizo guns.

Just in case, I take two knives and shove them blade-down into my back pockets. They’re fucking huge, though, so they stick out like Excalibur in the stone. With these things in my jeans, I won’t be able to walk around casually anymore.

I drag the leg of my jeans up. I’m about to stick one knife into my sock when I stop. Whatever this knife is laced with probably shouldn’t touch my skin. How can I— oh, I know! I kick my shoes off and take one sock off. Then I drag the sock over my other foot. I put one knife back where I found it, then stick the second knife between the two socks until it’s secure. When I shove my feet back into my shoes, it feels weird. One foot is bare while the other is double-socked. It’ll have to do though.

With a thunk, I shut the top cabinet, then unlock and open the bottom one. Three rows of handguns stare back at me. Which ones are the preloaded ones? I bring my fireball closer to them. On the bottom row, two of the weapons are facing the opposite way of the others. I pick one up. It feels heavy. I pick up one of the firearms from the top row. It’s definitely got less weight to it. Thank you, Katie! She definitely made this idiot-proof.

I shove the preloaded guns into the front of my jeans, then hide them behind my unzipped jacket. It’s been years since I’ve shot a gun, but with the help of my telekinesis, I’ll be able to make every shot count. I’ll have to, because what I have is enough shots to knock out thirty agents, which isn’t even close to what I need.

I leave room 317, acting as nonchalant as possible. Then I freeze. Down the hall, that security guard who was on his phone earlier steps out of a dark room with a short blonde girl. They both have guilty, satisfied smiles on their faces that drop the moment they see me.

Without a word, I make my way toward the elevators as if to say I didn’t see nothing . I sense them stay where they are while I press the down button. My heart thrashes against my ribs because if those two weren’t busy worrying about getting caught in their own dirty affairs, they might question why a field agent was in the weapons room.

Ding! The elevator arrives, and I rush into it.

When my ride lets me off at the living quarters, I step out with a dry lump in my throat.

In the community room, half the tables are occupied by agents playing poker. It must be tournament night, which explains why it’s so empty on the third floor. As a kid, I used to stand outside those glass windows and watch them play, knowing exactly who was bluffing and who wasn’t. Couldn’t poker night be any other night but this one? Why couldn’t they all be in their rooms, where they can’t see me?

A few of the agents glance up as I pass by. I keep my face impassive, even though my heart is pounding like I’ve been running laps around a football field. One guy stares a little longer than he should. Is he an Empath too? Can he sense me freaking out? Eventually, his head drops back to his cards and he goes back to playing the game.

The closer I get to my old bedroom, the shorter my breaths get. What am I gonna say to that hulk-like Shrinker who’s always guarding Arella’s door? The same story I was gonna sell him before? But Katie said my idea was dumb. I should come up with something else, and I’d better do it fast because I’ve got less than thirty seconds.

I turn the corner. Fuuuck. Craig eyes me as I saunter down the hall. I hope I look casual enough. The man’s energy swings at me, all alert and defensive. I brace myself for the burn that rips through my body whenever he shrinks me, just in case he decides to.

When I reach him in my normal size, I offer him a tiny smile. Not too big, where he’ll think I’m up to something, and not too small, where it looks super fake.

“What are you doing here?” Craig says like it’s peasant-minded of me to even think I belong in his breathing space.

“I’m here to take the Immune to Victor.”

“What for?”

I begin to think of a lie until the truth hits me. If Victor had actually told me to bring Arella to him, he wouldn’t have told me why. He would have simply said, “Just do it,” so I shrug nonchalantly. “Dunno. He didn’t tell me. Just ordered me to come pick her up.”

Craig steps aside to allow me access to the keypad.

Suddenly, my brain freezes up. What was the code again?

A heartbeat passes. Then another. And another.

“You ain’t got the code?” Craig’s wariness spikes inside me.

“Nah, I got it.” I type in some numbers as I silently pray to the keypad code gods. Please be correct.

When the light blinks green, it takes everything in me not to let out a sigh of relief.

I open the door and step into the dark room. I’m about to close the door when a hand slams against it.

Craig peeks his head in. “Where’s Victor’s assistant? Wasn’t she at the infirmary with you?”

The lie comes out easily. “She was. She’s already with Victor. She said something about getting there before me so she could have him approve some notes.”

“I see.” The door shuts.

This time, I do let out a sigh of relief.

“Arella?” I flip the light on.

She sits up and squints with a hand cupping her forehead. “Trey?”

The sound of my name coming from her lips is like hearing my old favorite song for the first time in years. It’s familiar. It’s soothing. It’s everything I’ve been living for.

I wave a hand over the handcuff around her ankle. It falls to the floor with a clank.

She rubs her ankle. “What’s going on?”

“Just follow me and stay close, okay?”

Like the stubborn person she always is, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Tell me where you’re taking me first.”

It hurts that she doesn’t immediately shoot off the bed and into my arms. She doesn’t trust me anymore. I understand why, but it still stings. It takes me a second to recover internally. When I do, I whisper, “I’m busting you outta here.”

Her eyes go wide as she springs off the bed and slips her feet into a pair of flats. That’s more like it.

I open the door to find Craig standing there with his phone held up. “You son of a bitch. Almost had me there. I just heard from Victor. He’s not even on base.”

I’m about to reach into my jeans for a perrizo gun when a searing burn takes over my body. The room grows bigger and bigger with each sharp breath I suck in. I clutch my stomach. Vomit is coming.

Arella’s screams echo above me as a giant Craig squats over me. His enormous hand is about to grab me as I snatch one of the guns from my jeans. I’m not sure what damage a tiny perrizo gun will do to him, but it’s all I’ve got.

Suddenly, the burning stops. I fly into the air as the room returns to normal.

“What the hell?” Craig stumbles backward, hitting his back against the wall. Shock, then anger, courses through my head as he glares at me, then at Arella.

It hits me what she just did. I can’t believe she did it so fast.

“You bitch.” Craig balls his hand, draws back, aims at her, and?—

Ssspt! My shot misses. It hits the wall behind him. Craig freezes and glances back at the little needle sticking out of a burnt area in the wall. He shoots me a venomous look as a lightning ball grows in his hand.

“You bastard!” He launches his sizzling ball at me.

I duck. The ball hisses as it zips past me and scorches the wall.

Another glowing orb soars toward my chest. As I step aside to dodge it, another one flies straight at my face. I wince as it stops barely a fingertip from my nose, then falls to the floor and disappears. Another lightning ball flies through the air. This time, it stops a fist away from my face and also drops to the floor.

“What the fuck?” Craig shouts, then points at Arella. “It’s you again, isn’t it? You’re blocking my powers from?—”

Ssspt!

“Ow!” The needle hits his shoulder. He plucks it off, then flicks it to the carpet.

I still have the gun up, aimed at him. The look on his face tells me I’m in for it. He opens his palm. This time, no sparks appear. Shock consumes him as he closes, then opens his hand again. No sizzling. No glowing light. Nothing.

Before he can make another move, I pull the trigger. Ssspt! The shot hits him right in the chest. This time, he doesn’t pluck it off. Instead, he wavers, then falls face-forward with a heavy thud.

I’m about to let out a sigh of relief when a siren blares. Brehh! Brehh! Brehh! “Intruder alert! Intruder alert!”

In the hallway, red lights flash from the ceiling. Next comes a man’s deep voice over the speakers. “Floor two. Royal spy. White male. Leather jacket. Blue jeans. Pyro. Kinetic. Empath. Kill on sight. I repeat, kill on sight.”

Fucking great.

I expect Arella to look as terrified as I feel. Instead, she glances up at me with a firm confidence in her eyes. She grabs my hand and slips her fingers between mine.

With the most conviction I’ve ever heard her speak with, she says, “I’ll make sure they can’t hurt you, Trey. Just get me out of here.”