First World (21 page)

“Machine gun! Take cover!” I screamed before diving off the passageway as the first of the bullets echoed around the cavernous room.

I had managed to grab Lucy’s hand and take her with me, but I couldn’t see anyone else. Olden continued to fire. Bullets rained relentlessly.

Breathing in a harsh, jagged manner, I attempted to push my panic aside – I couldn’t help anyone if I was having a heart attack – before moving further behind the table.

I barely breathed until there was a lull in the fire. It would take her sixty seconds to reload, just enough time to assess the situation. I
peeked around the corner. My heart hammered as I saw the scattered bodies in the pathway. I gagged at the sight of masses of blood.

Olden’s
gun had carved a destructive path through the group. She was in the same spot, right at the junction of our lane, wearing her usual overconfident self-satisfied expression. There was a large male guard on each side of her.

Smiling broadly, she rested the gun over her shoulder.

I couldn’t tell who was down. There were too many body parts scattered, although my frantic eyes continued to survey the destruction. Breathing in heavy pants, I pulled back behind the table.

“Abigail, nice to see you again.”
Her voice echoed around the room. “How terrible, a few of your friends did not make it.”

She chuckled after that, like this was the most fun she’d had all year.
Freak.

“What do you want, Olden?” I yelled over my shoulder.

As we waited for a reply, Lucy and I moved back against the table.

Looking down, I picked up one of my knives. I’d lost it as I dived away. The other was still strapped into my jacket cuff. Lucky I hadn’t cut my own hand off.

“I’ll run through the tables and draw her fire,” Lucy whispered quietly. “You take Olden out.”

I shook my head fervently.
No way ... hell, no.

“You know I’m right. You’re awesome with the knives, but even you can’t dodge bullets and aim.”
Fire burned in her blue eyes.

“Wait a minute. My father’s like a superman
dude or something. Maybe bullets do just bounce off me?”

Our whispered conversation was interrupted.

“Sorry, baby girl, we’re not bulletproof. Weapons can injure and incapacitate us. We just have the ability to heal from almost anything.”

I jumped about a foot in the air. Lucy pretty much ended up in my lap.

I hadn’t even seen Josian arrive. Bloody sneaky superman.

“So I think I’ll be the distraction. You girls do what you need to take your leader out.”

I looked into the burnt amber of his eyes and nodded. This was a plan I could work with.

“On the count of three.”
He smiled.

Between us we had six knives.
Time to make them count.

I tightened my hold on the handle, breathing in and out to calm my nerves.

“I never took you for a coward, Abigail ... if that’s even your name.” Olden’s mocking voice rang out.

I ignored her; I had people to save. The fact
Josian wasn’t going mental and killing everyone meant Lallielle was still alive, but I didn’t know about the rest.

“One
... two ... three ... go.”                                                                        

He dived into the centre of the path. By the time I stood knives-ready,
Josian was already dodging in and out along the path, moving almost too quickly for me to track him. He seemed to be throwing small balls of light in Olden’s direction. It was utter confusion.

Olden definitely hadn’t been expecting that. In the few moments it took her to raise her weapon back to firing position, I dived sideways from my table into the path. I palmed
off the first knife, mid-flight. Crouching, I took an extra heartbeat to breathe and calm before releasing my second.

The first flew a little wide; it was embedded in the crate behind
Olden’s head. But the second was a direct hit. Unfortunately her guard was good at his job. He sprung forth, and by the time I looked again the knife was hilt-deep in his throat. Lucy had followed suit and her knife took out the other guard. I didn’t have time to comprehend that I’d just ended a life. Something for therapy at a later date. I needed to help my father.

Josian
was almost at the end of the path. Pulling out my remaining knives, I followed him. I dodged and dived, waiting for shots to rain on me. I couldn’t see Olden through the confusion – people had started moving. I jumped a few of the bodies lying in the path. Some familiar faces with lifeless eyes haunted me as I sprinted. My chest was tight with anger, the panic ebbing on and off along with high doses of nausea.

“Where’s Olden?” I puffed to Lucy, who was
right behind me.

“I have no idea. I can’t see her anymore.”

We reached the junction of the path. Josian had the lifeless body of the second guard clutched in his hand. I couldn’t see any damage, except for Lucy’s knife protruding from the man’s bicep. But he was dead.

“Broken neck,”
Josian said shortly.

“
There’s a blood trail here. Did Olden get hit?” Lucy pointed out a trail of drops that became heavier the further they went.

She was distracted as Samuel reached her side, sweeping her into a hug.

“Lucy, are you okay? I couldn’t find you.” The stress was apparent in his voice.

She gave him a squeeze. “I was with Abbs. We’re all good. Sorry I scared you.” Her voice lowered then. “I
understand your fears, but you know over-protective crap just pisses me off, Sammy.”

His eyes met mine over her shoulder. The smallest grin graced his lips. Despite my own small petty jealousy, it made me happy to see he enjoyed Lucy’s smart mouth for more than just kissing the he
ck out of her.

I couldn’t see Brace anywhere as I frantically scanned the room. I refused to think anything had happened to him. After so many years of dream meetings and then this recent time, I wasn’t sure I
could imagine a world he wasn’t part of. Turning away, I started to follow the bloody path for a short distance. Chrissie appeared at my side – scaring the crap out of me – her face tear-streaked.

“Chandra’s dead.” She said it without emotion.

I gasped, trying to breathe through the shock and pain. Although we’d never had much to do with each other, I liked Chandra. Chrissie’s best friend, with her golden-brown hair and stunning chocolate eyes, had been the outgoing centre of attention. Funny and charming.

The weight of her loss wore heavy on Chrissie
’s downturned face. She pointed a finger at me, her black hair lying in limp scraggly strands, her brows drawn together in sorrow.

“I know you didn’t directly do this, Abby. But it feels like all of this happened because of you
... Chandra ... the torture. Because you came to our compound. Because Olden wanted you.” She sobbed once before composing herself. “Just stay away from me; I don’t want to see you again. You can only be a reminder of everything I’ve lost.”

I swallowed and
opened my mouth to ... I don’t know ... apologize or something. But the look on her face said she didn’t want to hear it. My breathing was harsh and ragged as I stared at Chrissie. Seeing no forgiveness there, I just nodded my head once. Chrissie wiped roughly at her tears before turning and walking away without a backwards glance.

Ouch!
I clutched at my throat as her words resonated deep. And she was right. Indirectly, I was the reason for many lives lost.

I knew I’d made myself an enemy, from someone I had once counted as
a friend. A few of my own tears escaped the corner of my eyes, their saltiness making its way to gather on my lips. I batted them away angrily.

My heart was heavy as I turned to make my way back to the people gathering at the junction of the path.

A man dove at me from behind a large pile of boxes. Instinct and training kicked in. Hitting the floor hard, I already had my knife in my hand, ready for the attack.

He came at me quickly, darting in with his own switch-blade held aloft. I managed to dodge two attacks, and I nicked him twice in the process. He was fast, flicking droplets of blood as he stabbed
toward me. Changing tactics, I threw out a progression of roundhouse kicks and elbows. There was a distinct groan as I connected with his mid-section. I darted away again.

As I went to take him down, I looked around and
realized he had been herding me toward a back section. I was now in a secluded space, separated from my group.

Stupid me.

I’d been so busy with the fighting I hadn’t noticed.

Then another man came at me from the side.

I held both hands in front, my right clutching my best chance: the throwing knife. With a flick of my wrist I nailed the first man in the right side of his chest, high up. Not fatal – if he found help. The other charged me at that moment. I used his momentum and body weight to throw him clean over my head and into a pile of boxes.

Olden appeared at my right side.

“Hello, Abigail,
” she said as she lunged at me. Her thin physique hid strength I had no idea she possessed.

I attempted to
dodge the second attack, but something tangled at my feet brought me down. I landed next to the man, who still had my knife in his chest. He’d somehow dragged himself over, leaving large trailing puddles of blood, to wrap his arms around my legs. I ordered my stomach not to react to the pungent aroma of the congealing blood.

Olden straddled me. “The master wants you, Abigail. But he didn’t say i
n what condition.” She laughed.

Her eyes were bright, feverish. Her pupils were dilated and moving rapidly.
She was so off-her-face.

I wriggled and kicked, but with the man on my
legs I was stuck.

“Get off me; I don’t have time to deal with your particular brand of crazy today
,” I yelled into her face. Gods I hated her.

She moved in a quick motion and a
sharp burning pain was my first indication. Looking down, I shook my head. I knew I was in shock. Nothing was registering.

With my free right hand, I reached out and grasped the handle of the large knife that had just been plunged into my chest.

“I wouldn’t move so much.” Olden leaned close to hiss at me. “You wouldn’t want that blade to twitch any closer to your heart.”

The pain was nauseating, the world flashing at me in black then color. My vision wavered. Squeezing my eyes closed, I grasped the knife, attempting to yank it free.

An ear-piercing scream echoed.

I realized it was from me. Hoarse little gasps bubbled from my lips. I waited to die. I wanted to die – or black out at least.

From the shadows, Brace appeared behind Olden.
Even through the flashing world and blinding pain, relief flooded over me.

He lifted her from me, his expression dark and deadly. With a cold and clinical ability, he b
roke her neck. Without effort. It was so quick she hadn’t even had a chance to turn her head.

Throwing her aside, he moved
toward me. But he was intercepted by two black-clad men. Brace’s half-smile glower was terrifying; if I had been facing him right now I would have run for my life. Adrenalin flooded through me, which forced my heart to pump faster, and the blood to gush out around the knife wound. I was afraid for Brace – and it only took thirty frantic seconds for me to realize I didn’t have to be.

Lucy might have joked that we were
ninjas, but Brace actually was. He’d picked up a long, broad sword from somewhere and was moving between the two men with the grace and skill of a trained assassin. They didn’t stand a chance. I must have blacked out for a small second. My lashes fluttered as reality came back. I could see that Brace had dispatched one; he was down in a pool of blood, and the other followed swiftly. Dropping the blood-drenched sword, Brace dived toward me.

Reaching down, he pitched the now
semi-conscious man that was still resting on my legs into a pile of boxes.

He dropped down beside me. I continued to gasp, my hand on the knife. Sounds seemed both loud and soft, and I couldn’t concentrate on his words.

“Red ... Red. You are going to be okay. Do you hear me? Just ... don’t you leave me.”

“I don’t want to leave
... Brace, it hurts,” I whimpered to him.

He leaned closer, his lips grazing my cheek.
My tears fell unchecked.

“I know it hurts.” His voice caressed me, soothing as it always did. “I will fix this, I promise, Abbs.”

Faces appeared behind him. Lucy dropped to my other side.

“Abbs, no
... no. This can’t be happening.” Tears poured from her wide blue eyes. She clutched my hand tightly. Her distraught expression pleaded with me. “Don’t you dare die, Abigail.” She spluttered through her tears.