Page 70 of Tear Me Down (Descent to Darkness Trilogy #2)
“Engage.” I signal the rest of the teams, and we burst into the main area, aiming true and taking out the guards that surround the room.
They drop one by one, barely having time to fire back, and once the last shot is fired, things get eerily quiet—too quiet, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
I take one last look around the room, feeling the temperature drop to an almost paranormal level, and my gaze catches Zeke’s from across the empty space.
He’s looking up, and his face is almost horrified with his mouth lazily open and his eyes wide.
I follow it, wondering what the hell has him so spooked, and my mouth drops open, mimicking his in reaction to the sight above me.
Jeremy, Darren, and Bradley, all three of our moles, are strung up by nooses—their decaying bodies hanging from the ceiling, obviously a retaliation for what I did to Hugo’s first home and to Cooper. We all stare in disbelief, and my stomach sinks to the floor.
Images of Henry and the night he died come barreling through, and my chest aches.
The sound of the fatal gunshot echoes through the space like a ghost’s wail, and I can still see the void in his eyes when he passed.
My friends, my men, they counted on me to keep them safe.
I failed again. Their deaths were clearly dragged out, and painful.
While they’ve already started to decompose, the evidence of their torture still lingers.
Some of their eyes are missing, and I can faintly see that Jeremy’s tongue was cut out.
There are cuts on the bottoms of their feet, and gashes all over their bodies.
Burn marks and bruises riddle their discolored skin, and even though what’s left of their faces is contorted, I can see the fear they felt in their last moments.
I know I shouldn’t look at or study every detail, but I can’t help it.
They were my responsibility. My men, and I failed them again.
This was a set up. There was never a meeting or even a chance to get to Hugo tonight, and now three of my men are dead—a senseless death that I should’ve seen coming. The moment things got too deep, I should’ve fucking pulled them—gotten over my selfish need for revenge and kept them safe .
“D?” Alex calls, and I tear myself away to look in his direction, but he’s gesturing to the floor in the middle, where the light shines differently on the concrete.
I step forward, determined to know what it is.
The men have obviously been dead for at least a week, and weren’t killed here, so I doubt that it’s blood, but the rest of the floor is clean.
So, this has to be something that was left intentionally.
Some of the men in my group step behind me, obviously ready to cover if necessary, but I have a feeling I won’t be needing it. This was all a decoy, a demonstration of power that I was stupid enough to fall for.
As I get close enough, and the floor comes into view, my blood instantly boils with the taunt spray-painted on to the floor.
‘I fucking killed them,’ it reads.
“FUCK!” I throw my hands out and grab the closest thing to me, a rusted, old chair that actually holds some weight, but not enough to stop the emotional charge ripping through me.
I throw it across the room as I roar, barely able to contain my despair and rage as I search for some type of outlet.
The only thing I can think is that I deserve this—this pain, this agony, and the guilt that’s attached to it—as I look back up.
Staring straight up towards their bodies, I crumble into the remorse and grief for my men, who were clearly tortured and suffered for their treachery.
While Darren and Jeremy are on full display, their missing limbs a clear sign of the brutality they suffered, Bradley is the only one still clothed, and that grabs my attention.
I examine that for a moment, wondering why he would’ve left one clothed and not the others.
He was the more trusted by Dust out of the moles, but I would think that would be cause for more humiliation, not less.
His rope looks different than the other two’s as well.
Thicker, and intertwined, almost as if there’s two of them.
I follow the trail from the joists above, and run along the material until I see that only he is anchored by a nearby crate, while the other two are strung up from the metal bars above them.
When I look back to make sense of it, that’s when I see the blinking red dot, just under the jacket Bradley is wearing. My body runs cold, and now I understand the setup. The chaos that, from the erratic blinking, is about to unfold.
“EVERYBODY OUT!” I scream, and start to run out as well, when nothing but a loud roar and bright white light takes over, and everything around me fades away, turning black.
Heat surrounds me, covering me like a warm blanket as a sharp ring plays through my ears.
My eyes are heavy, but even as they remain closed, I can feel the room spinning around me.
Faint voices strain to push through the void, but I can’t tell who is speaking or where they’re coming from.
Everything is a jumbled mess, and while flashes of the last thing I saw move through my mind, they don’t stay for long—making me question their authenticity.
What the hell just happened?
My entire body is wracked with pain, and as I force it upward, I strain, screaming out in agony and immediately moving to clutch my ribs. As I move my limbs, they scream out as well, burning and tearing apart with every twitch.
“Damien?!”
Henry?
“He’s over there!”
That’s not Henry…
“D! Hang on, man! We’re coming!” Zeke yells out, barely reaching through the crackling fire and piercing noise around me.
I try to move again, desperate to shift toward that voice, but the moment I reach out, another sharp pain shoots through my chest and back, causing me to cry out again and open my eyes.
I’m surrounded by nothing but orange flickers and black, wiry smoke that bellows upward into cloud-like forms. Bits and pieces of what looks like cinders fly through the air and whisp around fiercely.
The flames around me bounce off what appears to be the metal joists hanging limp from the ceiling as they sway back and forth, flashing the fire’s reflection back into my gaze.
As the cinders flash around me, the warm hue brings back a memory—one from not so long ago, but one that changed my entire world.
The moment the most enchanting woman turned her head in just the right direction and caught my attention, revealing the same golden ember that I see in front of me now.
My chest warms with comfort before it runs cold again with fear and worry.
“D!” Zeke and Alex run up to me and instantly kneel down, an intense worry etched into their features. They now appear dirty, and have a few cuts and bruises of their own, though they were obviously far enough away to not take too much damage. “We got to get the hell out of here!”
“Ashia…” I try to say more, but as I breathe in there’s nothing but soot and smoke, and my lungs can’t navigate through the thickness. Zeke and Alex both nod as my lungs cough and heave in agony, trying to expel the toxic environment.
“Carter’s going to get her,” Alex reassures me as they both reach out and wrap an arm under me, lifting with all of their strength.
My body instantly tenses and screams in pain, and I’m almost haunted by my own pained shriek.
The second I’m hoisted upright, it’s as if the world tilts.
The room around me sways and the black around us threatens to possess me.
“NO, D! Stay awake, man! We’re going to get you out!
” I nod, attempting to answer but as I take a step, and feel another sharp pain shoot up my body, the clouds give way, and I can’t see anything once again.