Destiny Kills (24 page)

The passage became visible, even though it was little more than a deeper patch of blackness in the thick darkness that was the water. I slowed, edging into the rough-hewn mouth of the tunnel and wondering how long it had actually taken my ancestors to carve out. Wondering if they’d had help and how they’d protected those helpers once they’d finally broken through the last of the rock and the black water had rushed in.

Though I guess one way to protect a secret is to let none survive who know it—a motto I would yet have to consider if my mother and I were to have any hope of being left alone.

I shivered. I’d killed in the past to protect myself and those I cared about, and I’d undoubtedly kill again if it meant protecting my mother and the kids. But could I kill in cold blood? Was I physically capable of hunting down and killing all those who now knew of our existence?

I really wasn’t sure. And that was scary.

I swam on. The passage wasn’t arrow straight, as I presumed, but full of twists and turns, snaking through the hard rock. In several places there were rock falls—no doubt caused by some sort of seismic activity, because the rock just looked too heavy and solid for it to be any sort of wear—and the sharp edges scratched my belly as I squeezed past. Trae would have struggled, even if he had been able to hold his breath long enough.

Finally, the water pressure began to ease. Though the water felt no warmer and the visibility was no clearer, I knew I was nearing the top.

My head broke through the water, and I blinked. Once the protective film retreated across my eyes, I looked around.

Though it was pitch black, I could see well enough. I guess that was one of the benefits of being a sea dragon. We had to see in the darkest of waters, as well as through the murk of the loch’s deep waters. This well held little in the way of problems.

The walls here were as rough-hewn as the walls of the tunnel, the marks of the picks that had hacked through the rock still very evident even after all this time. Sludge and God knows what else slicked the walls, some of it hanging in thick green tendrils. No light twinkled from high above. Indeed, there was nothing to indicate this well had an exit point at all. The only indication I had that there
was
an escape was the faint stir of fresher air through the dank atmosphere of the well.

I reached for the handholds carved deep into the rock and began to climb.

Chapter Fourteen

T
he air was cold against my skin, seemingly colder perhaps than the water. It crept across my body, stealing the warmth from my skin, settling into my bones.

I reached the top of the well and pressed a hand against the thick metal cover. It was heavy, thick with rust that flaked away as my fingertips pressed against it, but nevertheless it was basically solid to the touch. I took a deep breath, then pushed with all my might.

The cover slid up and back, and clanged to the ground with an almost bell-like sound. It seemed to reverberate across the silence, a sharp call to arms to anyone who was listening.

I scrambled over the lip of the well and dropped to the cold stone of the ground as the last of the bell-like reverberations faded away and silence returned. I remained there, my muscles taut and limbs trembling—whether with fear or the readiness to run, I couldn’t honestly say—listening for anything that might indicate someone had heard the crash of the cover and was coming to investigate.

Nothing. No footsteps, no alarm.

I rose and squeezed my hair to help dry it, then found the stairs and padded upward. My feet slapped lightly against the stones, making little noise.

The door at the top of the stairs was heavy, made of metal like the well cover but nowhere near as rusted. I gripped the knob and turned it carefully. The door creaked open, revealing a long corridor lit by a solitary bulb about halfway down.

These were the corridors I’d briefly glimpsed in the mist this morning, and they were a part of the old sections of the house. The newer additions to the basement—the cells—were ahead and to the left. If I went right, I’d reach the old stone staircase that wound up through the largest of the turrets to the roof. If the morning mist was right, the exits on the other floors were still well hidden. If I could get the kids to the stairs, they’d have a clear run to freedom.

But that was a whole lot of ifs.

I slipped through the doorway and headed down the corridor, keeping to the shadows and hoping they hadn’t installed motion detectors in the time I’d been away. I ran through the patch of yellowed brightness, then walked on, passing several semi-open doors. The rooms beyond were silent and dark, and I felt no immediate inclination to investigate. Not until I knew what lay ahead, anyway.

I padded on, my bare feet making little noise on the stone. Each breath sent little puffs of white drifting into the darkness, but I couldn’t actually feel the cold. The night and my own nature had seen to that.

I reached the tunnel junction and stopped. In the distance to the left there were voices and music, and it took me a couple of seconds to realize it was a TV, not the guards, I was hearing.

I risked a quick peek around. The guard station had been installed at the junction between these old corridors and the newer ones that led down to the cells. The guard sat in the middle of the room, his feet propped up on the desk and munching on a sandwich as he watched the TV.

To get to my mother and the kids, I’d need to get past that man.

How long had it been since I’d left Trae standing by the loch’s edge? Surely it had taken me at least twenty minutes to traverse the twists and turns of the passage? And yet there was no sound, no alarm. Nothing to indicate he’d begun his diversion.

But even if there were only a few minutes left of his twenty-minute limit, I couldn’t risk waiting. The longer I stood here, doing nothing, the more chance there was of getting caught. The guards didn’t just sit in the box watching TV; they patrolled regularly.

I worried at my lip for several seconds, trying to think of the best way to distract that guard without getting myself caught, then turned around and walked back to the first of the storerooms. Inside were lots of boxes and equipment, but on the shelf lining the back wall, I found a box of tools. I grabbed a heavy wrench and several small screwdrivers, then left.

A quick peek around the corner told me the man hadn’t moved. I took a deep, calming breath, then tossed one of the screwdrivers toward the guard’s box as hard as I could.

It hit the wall several yards shy of the box, and fell to the ground with a clatter. The guard didn’t turn around, didn’t move.

I cursed silently and tried again. This time the screw-driver clattered to the ground much closer, and the guard jerked around. I ducked back behind the wall, my breath caught in my throat as I listened for his reaction.

For several seconds there was no sound other than the TV, then the chair creaked and footsteps echoed on the stone. There was a pause, and while I imagined the guard bent over to inspect the screwdrivers, I didn’t dare look.

The footsteps started again, coming toward me. I gripped the wrench harder, my knuckles practically glowing as I waited.

Light flashed across the wall opposite as the foot-steps got closer, and closer. Despite the chilly air, sweat trickled down my spine. I waited, my fingers aching with the force of my grip on the wrench, as the smell of pine and man began to sting the air. Then the light sharpened abruptly and the guard appeared.

I swung the wrench, smashing it across his face. Blood spurted, spraying across my cheeks and the wall behind me. He barely made a sound, crumpling to the ground almost instantly. The flashlight rolled from his fingers, sending crazy patterns of light across the walls until it came to a halt. I stood over him, sucking in air, the wrench raised and ready in case he moved. He didn’t.

I blew out a relieved breath, then scrubbed an arm across my face and stepped past him, turning off the flashlight before heading back to the storage rooms. A search through several more boxes uncovered what I needed—rope.

With the guard on his side so that he didn’t drown in his own blood, I tied his feet and hands—ensuring his palms were facing outward rather than inward, so I could place them on the scanners—then patted him down. The keys were in his trouser pocket.

I stepped over him again and moved on into the other passage. The TV still blared in the guard box, and several banks of monitors sat in front of the guard’s chair, showing various shots of corridors and cells.

Jace, Tate, and Cooper were all sitting in front of laptops, playing shoot-’em-ups. Carli was sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, watching
The Simpsons
and giggling softly. I couldn’t see Sanat or Marco, but the bathroom door was closed in both their cells, so maybe they were in there. I couldn’t see my mom, either, but there were only a couple of cells with water in them down this end of the house, so she had to be in one of those. I doubted they’d move her to the end Egan and I had escaped from—the fire had damaged a fair section of that area and it was no longer secure.

I took note of all the cell numbers then glanced at the time. As much as I wanted to flick off all the monitors and race down to free everyone, I couldn’t. Not until Trae’s distraction started. They might not miss one guard, but someone was sure to notice a whole heap of blank screens.

So I waited, tapping my fingers on the desk, watching the clock and the slow progress of the minute hand. Tension tightened my muscles and sawed at my nerves, and sweat formed at the base of my neck before trickling down my spine. Each minute that passed was another minute wasted.

Finally, all hell broke loose.

An explosion shuddered through the night, followed closely by a shrill alarm, the noise so strident, so loud, it would surely wake the dead. Not that there were any of
those
around here. Or so I hoped, anyway.

My heart began beating like a jackhammer, feeling like it was going to pound right out of my chest. I flexed my fingers, trying to relax, listening to the noises underneath the racket of the alarm.

I looked up at the screens again. Jace and Cooper had abandoned their games and were on their feet, looking toward the ceiling. Jace had a smile on his face.

He knew we’d come for him.

The younger kids hadn’t really moved, though Marco had come out of the bathroom and was now standing in the middle of the room, as if wondering what to do next.

From above came the sound of running feet, shouts, then several more explosions ran across the night—a mass of noise that blew away any remaining sense of peacefulness. Tension tightened my muscles, and it was all I could do not to run down the corridor to the cells and free everyone. But to give in to that sort of need would be stupid.
Any
sort of speed or careless movement would be stupid. Trae might have given me his diversion, but these were trained guards we were talking about. It was highly unlikely they’d all leave their posts to go investigate whatever havoc Trae was causing. There’d be guards still around somewhere, and even the slightest hint of something out of place might bring them running.

I’d learned that the hard way.

So I waited until another massive explosion made the old building shudder, then flipped all the monitor switches. The screens went black—hopefully, the guards above would think the explosions had taken them out.

Hopefully they wouldn’t come down to investigate.

I propped open the metal door leading out to the main corridors, then retraced my steps back to the guard. He was still out, and though blood pooled thickly around his head, the bleeding had actually stopped. And he was still breathing, albeit a little shallowly, so I hadn’t actually killed him, which was good. I had no idea if a hand scanner needed the prints of a living, breathing person to work.

I blew out a breath, then grabbed him and hauled him up and over my shoulder, letting him flop down my back like a sack of grain. He wasn’t a big man, but he was damn heavy, and my back muscles protested. But I ignored them and staggered back to the guard box, then went through the metal door and walked down the brightly lit corridor, hoping I wasn’t leaving a blood trail. Hoping no one chose that moment to come around the corner. If they did, I was a goner.

I passed Tate’s and Marco’s cells, and went straight for Jace. I’d need his calm head and watchful eyes to help me with the little ones. When I reached the metal doorway, I grabbed the guard’s limp hand and flattened it against the scanner. A blue light swept across his fingers, then the light above the door flicked from red to green. I shoved the key into the lock and opened the door.

Jace was there, waiting for me, his smile as wide as the Pacific. “I knew you’d come. I told the others that, every single day.”

I gave him a hug with my free arm. “I’m just sorry it took so long.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

I smiled. “No, it doesn’t.”

I shut the door once he was out and relocked it. We moved on and collected the rest of the boys. I then sent Jace and Cooper down the far end to watch for any roaming guards, and walked around the corner to collect Carli.

There was no one in the halls, but smoke poured down the stairs at the far end. Whatever Trae was doing, he was doing it well.

After using the guard’s handprint to unlock the door, Marco and Tate propped him against the wall for me, holding him tight so he didn’t slide down to the floor. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with a trembling hand, then unlocked Carli’s door and pushed it open. Before I could blink, she was flying at me, her little arms wrapping around my neck and holding on tight.

“You came!” she all but shouted. “Jace said you would.”

“Shhhh, Carli,” I said, wincing a little as her high-pitched squeal reverberated through my eardrums and along the silent halls. “We have to be quiet until we can get out of here.”

Her eyes went wide, and she whispered, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I gave her a hug, then knelt. “Hold Sanat’s hand and let him look after you while I take care of the guard.”

She nodded, and offered her hand to Sanat. He wrapped his fingers around hers, looking pleased to have some responsibility.

I locked the door, then grabbed the guard again and staggered down to one of the empty cells. I dumped the guard on the far side of the bed, where hopefully he wouldn’t be seen. And just in case he woke, I tore some strips off the sheets and gagged him.

Then I closed the cell. I still needed him to get my mom out, but my first priority had to be the kids. If worse came to worst, Mom and I could call the loch and escape with the water. The kids didn’t have that choice.

I scooped up Carli, then we ran back down the hall to where Jace and Cooper were watching.

“Nothing,” Jace said, green eyes solemn as he looked at me. “And the noise has stopped upstairs.”

I nodded, and hoped like hell the silence didn’t mean something bad had happened to Trae. “This way. Quickly.”

I led them back through the guard’s box and down the old corridor. At the junction, I stopped long enough to pick up the heavy wrench, then we continued on.

The tunnel seemed to be climbing, and the air was less fresh—more full of mold and age. The younger boys huddled a little closer to me, but weren’t quite touching. Trying to be brave.

A gated doorway appeared. There was a padlock on the door, but it didn’t look new. More like one the scientists might have found.